


The Anti-Terrorism Unit (S-Squad)

by Reads_Things



Series: At Least They Have Each Other [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Confessions, Friends to Lovers, It's actually mutual but Gabriel won't admit it, Jack annoys Gabriel into friendship, M/M, POV Gabriel, Pre-SEP, Probably too dramatic, Romance, noncon implication as somebody's drink is drugged, numerous side characters, still cheesy, they don't drink it though, violence against terrorists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reads_Things/pseuds/Reads_Things
Summary: Set before SEP and their trip to Indiana and LA. Their time spent in the UN's Anti-Terrorism unit; from Jack joining the squad, to how he and Gabriel became friends and eventually something more. One or two of their more dramatic missions, as well as the rare times they could find to be alone. Their first date. Things like that. I try to make it as potentially canon-believable as possible.It'll probably be more enjoyable if you read the first part of the series beforehand, but the context clues are likely good enough.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: At Least They Have Each Other [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604134
Comments: 32
Kudos: 77





	1. In which Jack joins the Anti-Terrorism unit and ruins Gabriel's month.

Gabriel didn't pay too much attention to the news at first. Why would he? The guy coming in to replace Moreno's now-corpse would be just like the rest of the squad. Not worth his time.

"I dunno what his name is." Kayes was saying to Roberts. The two were talking on the couch across from him in the common room, bothering him with their inane conversation as he tried to read the latest dossier.

"When's he coming in?" Roberts said.

"Dunno that either. I told you, I just overheard the captain mentioning that scouting was over. It's a shame about Moreno, though."

Roberts grimaced. "Yeah. He really shouldn't have gone into the building alone. Broke so many rules."

Gabriel scoffed under his breath. Moreno had been an idiot, through and through. A decent shot, but no brainpower to back it up.

The two glanced up at him, but ignored it and went back to their discussion.

"Took them almost two weeks to find a replacement. Our squad's been down to fifteen." Roberts said.

"It's hard to find people." Kayes said. "You have to be damn good to get into S-squad.”

_Not good enough._ Gabriel thought. He managed to tune them out soon after, and didn't revisit that line of thought for a few days.

\--

He glanced down at his watch as the notification came in from the Captain.

**Everyone to Briefing. Introductions.**

Gabriel grumbled, pocketed his datapad and made for the briefing room. The Captain would bitch at him for ages if he ditched it again.

He'd been across base, and so one of the last to arrive, sliding in as the rest milled around waiting for the Captain to speak. As they waited for Madocki, Remman, and Carter, he took the time to give the new guy a critical look-over.

Gabriel hated him instantly.

Perfect blonde hair, ungodly blue eyes, a smattering of light freckles, and a cheerful expression. His only saving grace was that he _did_ look strong-- not quite as much as Gabriel, perhaps, but more so than most of the squad. 

_Great. A boy scout._

"You all know the drill." The Captain said as Remman entered the room last. "This isn't fucking primary school. This is Jack Morrison. He's a damn good soldier; one of the best in his previous sector. We're lucky to have him. You all can do the rest of the introductions yourselves." And then the Captain swept out of the room, already dialing for another phone call.

The rest of the squad swarmed the new guy, of course. They didn't get new members often, as one of the smallest units in the UN.

Introductions went by quickly, with Gabriel unable to leave as the Captain was still standing outside the door. He did _not_ need another lecture about the importance of teamwork.

"So, Morrison." Remman said. "Odd accent. Where are you from?"

Morrison sighed, scratched the back of his head. "Indiana." He said. His voice was surprisingly deep.

" _Indiana_?" Faraday said. "I totally forgot that was even a state. What's there?"

"Corn, mostly." Morrison said. "Grew up on a farm there."

The more Morrison talked, the more disgusted Gabriel grew. _Great. Not only is he a basic boy scout, but he's an actual farmboy._

And then those stupidly blue eyes flicked over to meet his, and it took him nearly a full moment to manage to wrench his own gaze away. 

The group continued to chat, but Gabriel soon after managed to slip away and return to his tactics reading.

He first spoke with Morrison the next day. He'd been in the common room, glancing over new documents about a terrorist organization when the enthusiastic bastard flopped down on the couch beside him. _Smiled._

Nobody sat by Gabriel more than once. Not without reluctance, at least.

"Hey!" Morrison stuck out his hand. "You must be Reyes. Only one I haven't met."

Gabriel glanced aside at the hand, then ignored him and went back to his reading.

"Don't bother." Kayes said from a nearby couch. "Reyes is an assole."

Morrison didn't seem put-out. "Ah. Sure he's not just the shy type?" He teased.

Kayes coughed out a laugh, nearly choking on his bagel. " _Fuck_ no! Just a dick. Made Faraday cry once."

"I wasn't crying!" Faraday snapped from another nearby couch.

_Yes you were._ To be fair, Gabriel had nearly broken his wrist. He took hand-to-hand seriously.

Morrison snorted at that, stood and walked away.

He didn't put much more thought into Jack Morrison until training the next day, ignoring another attempt at speaking to him. Gabriel didn't expect much from him; not a farmboy that smiled that brightly.

As they lined up outside, he heard a little more conversation.

"Don't feel bad in a bit." Roberts said to Morrison. "Reyes is unbeatable in pretty much everything. He's an asshole, sure but he's the best soldier here. There's a reason the Captain keeps him around despite his edgy lone-wolf shtick."

Gabriel scowled at the last sentence, but felt pleased enough with the rest. At least they all knew it.

And then, Morrison spoke up.

"Oh? Well, I was known for being pretty damn good back at my old squad." Morrison said. "Don't count me out just yet."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. _As if_. Cook had said something very similar before being annihilated by him at every part of training. Cockiness didn't beat him-- and certainly not this guy. 

Because it was true. Gabriel bested everyone else by a mile; on the course, close-quarters ranged, and especially hand-to-hand. The boy scout didn't stand a chance.

"Alright, let's see where you stack up, Morrison. Time to get a feel of your ability." The Captain said. "Reyes and Morrison, the course."

A few people in the squad shot Morrison a sympathetic look. 

_They already love him. Of course they do._

As they approached the start, Morrison threw him a smile that he promptly ignored.

"Start."

They both took off running.

Morrison was fast, Gabriel had to give him that. Faster than Gabriel, even. But Gabriel was a little more clever, and his reflexes slightly better. He was pulling ahead when they hit the wall, and--

He almost halted as he saw Morrison leap at the wall and clamber over it in two seconds flat, fast enough that he almost didn't believe it had happened.

Gabriel took his usual few moments to struggle over it before taking off again. After a few turns and obstacles, he'd managed to nearly catch up.

Between Morrison's speed and climbing skill and Gabriel's quick thinking and reflexes, they were perfectly evenly matched. 

Their fingers touched the ending bar at the same instant, both breathing hard-- but with Morrison grinning like crazy.

"You _are_ good!"

_...He matched me? Seriously?_

That hadn't happened to him since Basic, where Gabriel had quickly pulled past the rest.

The rest of the squad were staring with disbelieving eyes, but the Captain managed to hide any surprise he may have felt.

_If he couldn't climb like that, I'd have beaten him_.

He turned away from the smile, went back to the lineup.

And then Morrison destroyed every other squad member in Firearms. Given a pistol the boy scout was only considerably better than your average s-squad soldier, but given a rifle? His speed and accuracy was unmatched. 

Gabriel wasn't huge on rifles. He preferred close-quarters; shotguns and the like. Getting up-close and personal with your enemy was the best part.

But even when matching the different metrics between shotguns and rifles, Morrison outshot him every time without fail.

Gabriel was disoriented. First he was matched, and then _beaten_? It was unheard of in any category, and the squad was just as surprised.

_How is somebody like_ that _this good?_

Morrison hadn't gloated nor shown off, chatting away with the rest as if he hadn't just broken long-standing records.

Hand-to-hand. Gabriel's forte. The blonde bastard stood no chance of beating him there.

And sure enough, Gabriel took him down.

However, it was a _challenge_ \-- something he hadn't gotten in a long time. Where Gabriel usually took his opponent out in under ten seconds, he and Morrison fought for nearly a minute before he managed to use a particularly clever tactic to sweep Morrison's legs out from under him and pin him.

And Gabriel realized with horror that he'd nearly smiled. It was so rare to actually have to put effort into this particular facet of training.

As Morrison picked himself up off the mat, his eyes were sparkling. 

"I haven't been beaten in ages! You really are impressive, Reyes. Can we give it another shot?"

That was a first.

They did it five more times. Gabriel won the next four, but on the fifth, he ever-so-slightly slipped his guard and found himself pinned on his stomach. Again, for the first time outside of basic.

He ignored Morrison's helping hand up, still shocked.

The fucking _boy scout_. The blonde, blue-eyed smiling bastard had _beaten_ him?

Despite himself, he wasn't as angry as he wanted to be.

_There really is something to him. Maybe somebody worthwhile actually joined the squad._

_Probably not. But maybe._

Over the next few weeks, Gabriel analyzed the situation.

He and Morrison were almost perfectly evenly matched.

Morrison always beat him at distance shooting, but Gabriel always beat him at close-quarters shooting. Morrison beat him nine times out of ten on the Course, but Gabriel beat him nine times out of ten at hand-to-hand. When it came to tactics, they almost always argued until a nearly fifty-fifty plan seemed best.

Morrison was _good_. Really good. 

The squad of course adored him. The one who had finally knocked Gabriel off of his pedestal of perfection. 

Morrison, however, didn't insult Gabriel or lord it over him even when he had the rare hand-to-hand win. In fact, he seemed just as delighted with the challenge. He tried to speak to Gabriel a few more times, but Gabriel had ignored him.

Until one day, he found himself holding out his hand to help Morrison up off of the mat. He realized too late to draw it back, and Morrison grabbed it and stood.

That in itself was another shock.

And Gabriel had to give Morrison even more grudging respect after seeing him out in the field, because…

Morrison was really something else with a gun in his hand and a mission in mind. It was as if the man _lived_ for violence, for ducking under flying bullets and pulling flashy, dangerous, dumbass moves that somehow always worked out for him.

He knew just as well as anybody else that excellence in training didn’t always translate well to excellence in the tense, pressured reality of missions-- but Morrison’s certainly did. The man was somehow even _better_ out in the field, always with a sparkle in his eye and the willingness to do whatever was necessary. Gabriel could appreciate that.

Despite Gabriel’s expectations, Morrison wasn’t a bleeding heart, either. He always did his job and put the mission first; unlike others who would save a civilian now at the risk of having dozens dead later. He was kind to people who they managed to rescue, but wasn’t an idiot about anything. Not like Moreno had been.

Not to mention the unique skills he brought to the team, with his rapid clambering up multiple stories of buildings without a single piece of climbing gear. It had almost given the Captain a heart attack the first time, but it began to come in handy very quickly.

Yeah. Morrison was a hell of an asset in the field, and he even managed to be tolerable while doing so. For that reason, Gabriel was only vaguely annoyed when the Captain decided to team them up during missions-- admittedly, their varying specialties balanced each other out well. 

He still refused to speak to Morrison outside of what was necessary during missions, of course, despite the occasional attempts.

"Hey Reyes." Morrison tried again about a month after he'd joined, sliding across the mess table from him.

Gabriel always ate away from everyone else; as far as possible. Morrison usually with everyone clustered around him.

Gabriel glanced up, scowled particularly hard and went back to his meal.

"What are you doing, Jack?" Kayes asked as he headed for the group's usual spot.

"What does it look like?" Morrison said. "Eating with Reyes."

Kayes snorted. "Why bother? Everyone knows he's an asshole, you included. Don't waste your time."

Morrison just shrugged. "Thanks for the warning."

_What does he want_?

Gabriel didn't say anything, and Morrison seemed surprisingly comfortable with the extended silence. The man only spoke up once.

"Not a fan of peaches, Reyes?" Morrison asked, having obviously noted his even darker scowl and poking at the fruit.

Gabriel sighed harshly, set down his fork a bit too hard. "What the fuck do you want, Morrison?"

Morrison shot him a puzzled glance, then smiled. Gabriel hated that smile more and more as the weeks passed.

"I was gifted this chocolate bar earlier. Not the biggest fan of chocolate, but I'm willing to trade it for that peach if you'd like."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. It was _so_ tempting-- when had he last had chocolate?

"What's your motive?"

Morrison went past smiling and _laughed_ at him. No. Giggled.

"To eat a peach, you fucking weirdo. I assure you, this trade would be mutually beneficial."

Gabriel weighed his options. "You don't even know if I like chocolate."

Morrison shrugged, retracted the bar. "We don't have to--"

Gabriel quickly held out his peach. Morrison handed over the bar, and they both ate their treat in silence.

_But how did he know?_

As if he'd read Gabriel's mind, Morrison winked. "You just seemed like somebody with a sweet tooth."

Morrison slowly began to sit with him more and more at the mess hall, much to the annoyance of the rest of the Squad and Gabriel himself. They initially sat in silence, but he found himself unwittingly talking every once in a while.

"Why the fuck won't you leave me alone?" He asked one day.

Morrison shrugged. "I like your company. Constant chatting is fine and all, but… the silence can be nice. Not to mention that when you _do_ talk, it's always interesting."

Gabriel just frowned at that and stared back down at his food. 

Yet another first.

Another few weeks later, during hand-to-hand, he slipped up again. Unfortunately, it wasn't the usual slip-up. He realized too late that they had maneuvered too far to the edge in their fight, as Morrison's head smashed against the concrete lip of the training area.

They were a terrible crack that had the rest of the squad; previously chatting while waiting their turn, all staring at him in horror.

Gabriel thought for one _terrible_ second that he'd killed Morrison, what with all of the blood-- but his fears were allayed a moment later when Morrison simply winced and touched his head, drawing back red.

"Ow."

Gabriel truly hadn't meant to, and in a very rare moment, was nearly paralyzed with guilt.

He'd hurt others in hand-to-hand before-- quite a lot, actually. Never like this, and never to somebody who smiled when they saw him.

"Reyes!" The Captain barked after everyone's single moment of shocked silence. He sounded furious. "What in the fuck is wrong with you? You may not get along, but we don't try to murder our fucking _squadmates_ here."

Gabriel's voice stuck in his throat.

"Get him to medical. _Now_. We'll discuss this later." The Captain snapped.

"I'm fine." Morrison tried to wave off the help, but with blood pouring out of the back of his head, it was ignored. 

Gabriel ignored the death glares from the rest of the squad. They likely thought it was on purpose, he knew. All of them assumed that he hated Morrison for matching or beating him in things. They were right, but still.

Were they right?

He finally found his voice as he helped Morrison down the hall to medical.

"I didn't realize we were going that hard." Morrison joked hoarsely. "Caught me off guard there."

It just made Gabriel feel worse. "Stop talking." He said, kicking himself internally when he heard a note of concern in his voice.

Jack gave a huff of a laugh. "Oh, Reyes. I didn't realize you care--" And then he gasped slightly, halted and jerked his arm from Gabriel's shoulder to clutch his head and wince.

His worry mounted. "Morrison--"

"It's--" Morrison inhaled sharply. "It's fine. Just a bit dizzy is all."

He wasn't sure he'd ever felt this terrible before, and he'd done some terrible things.

"Sounds like a concussion."

"Ooh, really?" Morrison teased, leaning again on Gabriel to make their way down the rest of the hall.

Gabriel stayed with Morrison as he was bandaged up and confined to a bed in the medical ward. He continued to hover nearby as the nurse left, unsure as to what to do.

Morrison held his head in his hands for a while, eventually took a deep breath and sat up.

"You're still here?" He said. He sounded surprised.

_He must be pretty bad if he didn't realize._

"Morrison, I… I'm sorry." He finally said. "I didn't… mean to…"

Morrison winked at him. "It's fine; we can both get a little heated when it comes to hand-to-hand. I know you wouldn't do it intentionally."

Gabriel relaxed, just a little bit. "Still."

Morrison winced and touched his head again. "Really, I'm fine. I can't believe they're keeping me here, though! They said no active combat for a _week_. A week!"

Personally, a week seemed a little low for how bad the damage had been.

Gabriel hesitated. He didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to leave. 

Fuck. Guilt was the worst feeling.

“You don’t have to stay.” Morrison said. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

So Gabriel left.

But for the rest of the day and the sleepless night, he couldn’t get the image of that red-stained hair out of his head, and the guilt only fully vanished when Morrison was back in the field with that same enthusiastic sparkle in his eyes.

He felt somebody flop down on the couch next to him, and since nobody else ever sat by him, he knew who it was.

“What do you want, Morrison.” He said, not bothering to lift his gaze from the newest dossier.

“We’re heading out to the nearby town again. The usual bar.” Morrison said, resting a hand on his datapad and forcing him to look up. “Want to join us?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to refuse again-- Morrison had asked him three or four times before-- but…

_What he’s like when drunk?_

He wondered, after so many weeks of working with that cheerful persona. It wasn’t like he could ask anybody else in the squad. They likely wouldn’t tell him.

“I’ll buy you a drink.” Morrison offered.

Across by the chess table, Cook rolled his eyes. He’d complained every time Morrison had asked Gabriel to go out with the rest of the squad, likely on the off-chance that Gabriel agreed.

_Why_ does _he keep asking? People have usually long stopped with the attempts by now._

Well. 

“Fine.” He said, as if he were doing Morrison a favor.

And sure enough, Morrison beamed at him. “Great! We’re leaving in twenty minutes, Reyes.”

_I’m only doing it to annoy Cook and the others._ He told himself.

Gabriel left base relatively often when they had time off, but it was always alone and to the city. He enjoyed the chaos and the fancier cinemas, but the rest of the squad always went to the nearby suburbs-- which albeit considerably closer, only held a few quiet bars and shops. He’d only been to the squad’s usual bar a few times, when the need for a quick drink overwhelmed his disgust for suburbia and his squadmates’ unnecessary presence.

Morrison, annoyingly enough, took the seat next to him even though the bus was nearly empty.

“Personal space, asshole.” He said.

“What?” Morrison seemed to realize what he’d done. “Oh! Sorry, Reyes.” He said, moving to sit by Remman.

“Is that a country boy thing?” Cook joked. “The lack of personal space, that is.”

“Fuck off.” Morrison said.

Gabriel turned to stare out the window, ignoring the empty feeling of the seat next to him.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

The trip to the suburbs only took a good twenty minutes, and then a four minute walk to the bar.

“I owe you that drink.” Morrison said, sidling up to him as they went through the doorway.

Behind them, Madocki huffed. “You don’t, Jack. Reyes is taking advantage of your niceness, you know.”

“It’s hardly being taken advantage of, if I offered. Anyways, I promised. Are you trying to make a liar of me?” Morrison teased.

_When did they get onto a first-name basis?_ He wondered, and then, 

_What do I care?_

He ordered his whiskey-- and nearly choked when he heard Morrison order some fucking strawberry concoction behind him.

_He’s every terrible cliche in one._

Though. It did sound good.

He went to take a seat away from the rest, as usual, but Morrison stopped him with a light hand on his forearm. He stiffened at the touch, turned with a glare at that smile.

“Reyes, come on! Sit with us.”

“Fuck no.”

Morrison seemed disappointed, but surprisingly, didn’t argue. He drew away and sat with the rest, again leaving Gabriel feeling slightly….

No. He felt _normal_.

The drink was average and the bar dull, with only a dozen drunken suburban dads and a few plastered soccer moms to idly watch. He avoided the six squadmates, after all, he already spent too much time dealing with them. As the minutes ticked by and an hour passed, he found himself regretting his agreeance. Morrison was only on his second drink in the hour, so that was a bust in and of itself. 

And then Morrison sat by him, ignoring the hard stare Gabriel sent his way out of habit.

“Don’t you get bored sitting all moodily by yourself all the time?”

“No.”

Morrison hummed at that, sliding him another drink. “You don’t have to act like you’re allergic to us, you know.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.” Morrison said with a level stare.

Gabriel took a long drink, only half as annoyed as he should’ve been.

“Why the fuck do you keep bothering me?”

“Why do you keep letting me?”

Not for the first time, Gabriel found himself vaguely impressed with Morrison’s demeanor despite every attempt to feel otherwise.

He snorted. “You just don’t take the hint.”

“I’ve been told I’m terrible at hints before.”

“That does not surprise me. Would you fuck off, now?”

But this time, Morrison remained seated at the bar next to him.

“I told them I’d have this drink with you.”

“So, what, about half an hour?”

Morrison laughed. “Yeah. Trying not to get hammered, here.”

“Right.” He said distastefully. “The hell are you going to a bar for, then?” “It’s something to do on a night we all have off, isn’t it? Not a lot else for people like us to do near here. Cities, I swear.”

Gabriel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This isn’t a fucking city, Morrison. In any case, I bet to hell there’s a fuckload more to do in a city than-- than _what_ , a damn cornfield?” “There’s more than corn where I come from. Well. Not _much_ more, but still.” Morrison said, sounding amused. Like it was some joke.

“Well, don’t expect me to do this again.” He said, grudgingly taking another sip. “Suburbs are miserable.”

Morrison propped his chin up with his hand. “You usually head to the city, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you do there?”

“Half-decent fucking bars. Theatres.”

“So not that much different.”

“Are you serious?”

Morrison shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never really been to a city before. Well, I mean, we’ve obviously had some _missions_ in cities, but that’s hardly experiencing a real city.”

“You’ve-- you’ve-- _what_?”

“What?”

“You’ve never been to a fucking city?”

“No. I went to the outskirts of Indianapolis once or twice, but never past the suburb bit.”

“You’ve never been into a city without a gun in your hand.” He reaffirmed.

“Nope.”

_You have to be kidding me. He really is just some idiot from the country._

“Can I go with you next time?” Morrison suggested hopefully. “You seem to enjoy them.”

“No.” He said.

The crestfallen look on Morrison’s face made him almost… guilty again. His least favorite feeling. 

“I’m not a fucking babysitter.” He tried again, annoyed with himself more than anyone.

This time, the look on Morrison’s face was reproachful. “Get your head out of your ass, Reyes. I saved your ungrateful ass _twice_ last time we were in the field, you remember that?”

“As if I didn’t do the same for you.” He snapped back.

“Wow, listen to that. Admitting you’re in a squad for once. I don’t give a _damn_ if you’re nice to me or not, but it’s not a lot to ask for a modicum of respect. You’re pretty damn skilled; brilliant even, but maybe you should remember once in a while that you aren’t perfect.”

Gabriel had heard the same things a hundred times from other people, but for some reason, it stung coming from Morrison. Hard.

He didn’t say anything, and a moment later, Morrison gave him a deeply disappointed look and shook his head, walked back to the rest of the group.

On the bus back, he did his best not to care about what Morrison thought of him. _Nobody_ liked him, and that was how he liked it. People didn’t _like_ generals and leaders-- they just got shit done. 

But that look of disappointment, like he’d proven to be _less_ than expected-- ate away at his mind.

To Gabriel’s-- _joy_ , Morrison ceased to sit with him at mess, instead going back to minimal contact. The squad still trained, but the extra training he’d sometimes done with Morrison ended as well. Things were back to normal, and he was _happy_ about it.

And if he felt the barest hint mournful, it was because that extra training had really helped to hone his skills.

They got a couple of days off again a month or so later, and as he bought his movie ticket for the night online, he listened idly as the squad made plans to go back out to the usual bar. Morrison didn’t even glance at him that time.

_As it should be_.

And yet.

He rubbed his face, resentful. _Why can’t I cut this out?_

That evening, before the rest of the squad left for the suburbs, he found himself waiting by the door for Morrison to exit. The man did, last, and Gabriel tugged him aside.

“What do you want, Reyes?” Morrison said. Madocki halted outside the bus, one foot aboard, staring back with expectation.

Gabriel sighed. _Why am I doing this?_ “I’m heading to the city. Want to come with?”

Morrison blinked, a scowl appearing. “I thought you didn’t want to _babysit_.”

He shrugged, a little taken aback. “Decided to take pity on you.”

“Right.” Morrison said. He didn’t sound impressed.

He contemplated-- the moment was slipping away, and Morrison was about three seconds from pulling away and heading to the bus.

“It’s a horror movie. I want to see how scared you get.” He tried. “It’s set in a cornfield.”

That time, it seemed to work. Morrison cracked a slight smile. “Oh, I get it now. You want my corn expertise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever makes you happy to imagine.”

“Trust me, it doesn’t.” Morrison said with mild amusement, glancing back at the bus. Kayes had begun waving him over. “Well. I already made promises.”

“Fine.” Gabriel said with a shrug, ignoring the stinging disappointment.

“I--” Morrison hesitated, glanced at him. “Well. It’s not every day that you basically admit that you like my company.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “I did no such thing.”

“You wish.” Morrison teased. “I’ll come. Guess we wait for the next bus, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He hung back as Morrison went up to tell their squadmates he would be staying behind, and once the bus to the suburbs left, Gabriel edged up to wait under the structure.

The ride to the city was mostly silent, with each of them staring out of opposite windows. Morrison spoke to a woman who sat beside him at one point, and that was it.

But once they finally arrived at the city, he found himself with words on his tongue from the minute he stepped off of the bus. Morrison stared up at the pitiful number of short skyscrapers in awe, as if he hadn’t shot terrorists in some of the largest cities in the world, and Gabriel looked on aghast.

“Morrison, you’ve been to New York. To _Seoul_. Geneva. Berlin. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Yeah, but I dunno. It’s different when you’re not in combat mode.”

“Combat mode.”

“I know what I said. So where’s this movie theatre? This place is huge.”

Gabriel let the _combat mode_ thing go. “It’s a tiny fucking city, Morrison. Barely deserves to be called a city.”

The look Morrison threw him was more than doubtful. “If you say so, Reyes.”

He began walking, leaving Morrison to scramble along behind him.

The theatre was as packed as ever, and they had to maneuver through a pretty hefty crowd in order to even get through the front doors. He lost sight of Morrison twice, and eventually had to tug the idiot along by the front of his shirt in order to make it inside. He wasn’t going to miss the movie to go search for a lost farmboy.

“Don’t we need to buy tickets?” Morrison asked, almost endearingly worried as he stared at the long line stretching around the building.

“No. Bought them online earlier.” He said.

“But--” Morrison grinned. “How’d you know I was going to say yes?”

“How’d you know I liked chocolate?”

Morrison huffed, but his eyes were sparkling as Gabriel dragged him into the theatre.

The ever-present enthusiasm was almost infectious, and he found himself with the barest hint of a smile on his face as he bought food at the concession counter.

“You owe me a drink later.” He said.

“I owe you drinks for the _night_.” Morrison said, accepting a bag of popcorn. “You know Reyes, you aren’t that bad.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to ruin my reputation.” He said. They began walking to theatre room twenty-two.

“Why _do_ you try to be such an asshole, anyways? Think it’s cool or something?”

“No.”

Row six, seat eleven. The prime spot. Close enough that the screen filled your vision, but you didn’t have to tilt your head to see the top. Slightly to the right, because of his natural inclination to look to the left.

Morrison had no idea how to watch a fucking movie.

The idiot had the tendency to lean over and try to _whisper_ every time something vaguely interesting happened, misinterpreted plots, forgot key characters, and worst of all-- Gabriel glanced over during a less intense portion of the film and saw Morrison with his head on his hand, _sleeping_.

He wasn’t sure whether he was more disgusted or impressed.

Well. No. It was certainly disgusted.

As they left the theatre, Morrison turned to him with the usual smile. “Fun movie. Thanks for the invitation, Reyes!”

“You didn’t even watch it!”

“What do you mean? I was right there!”

He groaned, ran a hand over his face. “You fell _asleep_.”

“Only for a minute. It was a boring part anyways.”

“There _are_ no boring parts! Even if nobody is being _murdered_ onscreen, there are still a thousand things to pay attention to. The composition, the lighting, the character interactions and the symbolism hidden in the set…” He trailed off, realizing it was useless.

There was a look of triumph on Morrison’s face. “Reyes has a hobby. That he actually cares about and puts thought into.”

“I’m a fucking human being, you know that right? Of course I have a hobby.”

“So innocuous! Film, not like… I dunno, serial killer research or something.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Morrison said with a wink. “Anyways, what now?”

He grumbled, steered Morrison in the direction of his second-favorite bar-- just in case. Didn’t want to fuck up his favorite if Morrison did something stupid.

Despite Morrison’s every effort to wander off distracted, they eventually made it to the bar and took a seat at the counter.

“Lots of people.” Morrison commented.

“Normal night.”

The majority of the night went well enough, and he finally got to see Morrison tipsy-- with the additional knowledge that it barely took a few relatively light beers. He found himself chatting more openly than he had since he’d joined the military, and it was… almost nice. He wasn’t the type to need a friend, let alone _want_ one-- but it wasn’t even as if he were making a conscious choice here. He just _talked_ and enjoyed the conversation.

Weird.

Though he was only rarely approached when alone, with Morrison there, he found people wandering over to chat on the regular. It was impressive how Morrison managed to charm every single one of them, seemingly without trying, nor even realizing he was doing it. Though a good number had come over to try hitting on the idiot, even more just seemed to simply want conversation. That was new for Gabriel, as people had only ever approached him for the former reason. He supposed it was Morrison’s friendly face that had inspired the influx of annoyances that broke into _their_ conversation.

At least it was _hilarious_ how oblivious Morrison really was. While Gabriel at first thought that it was an act, he slowly realized that Morrison had no idea what flirting entailed. He took compliments, smiled, but never seemed to understand the implication. Gabriel watched multiple people come up and try their hand, eventually become puzzled, frustrated, and leave again with Morrison none the wiser as to the reason.

_Fuck_ if it wasn’t the most entertaining thing he’d seen in a while.

At some point, Morrison wandered off to speak to somebody he’d met. Gabriel watched him; partially because it was likely going to be entertaining, and partially because he didn’t trust the boy scout not to get into any trouble. Not with the idiot moves he’d pulled on the short walk to the bar alone.

And sure enough, Morrison got into trouble.

Gabriel watched with mounting disbelief as Morrison set his drink on the counter, casually, and headed off to the bathroom. Leaving the drink alone. As if he wasn’t a handso-- _decent-looking_ guy at a sketchy bar on a friday night, with the textbook, naive demeanor of an easy target.

_He’s suicidal._

It wasn’t thirty seconds before, of course, a man slid over and slipped something into Morrison’s drink. It was typical; done fast and discreetly enough that if Gabriel hadn’t been paying close enough attention, likely nobody would’ve seen it.

_Is that really not a problem in farming towns? Whatever they’re called?_

As Morrison re-entered the bar proper, Gabriel jerked him to the side. “You _dumbass_. Are you really this incompentent, or am I falling for some sort of idiot joke?”

Morrison threw a startled glance at his tone. “What?”

“You left your fucking drink on the bar.”

“Um, yeah. I just went to the bathroom. Didn’t want to take it in with me.”

Gabriel rubbed his face, trying not to blow up at him and cause a scene. Wouldn’t coexist with his current plan.

“You’re the most naive idiot I’ve ever met. Somebody dosed your fucking drink, Morrison.”

Morrison’s face was blank. “Dosed? Like…?”

“Yeah. Probably Rohypnol or GHB or something. Drug you up until you’re a stumbling idiot-- _more of_ a stumbling idiot-- and drag you into an alley. Or worse.”

Jack stared at his drink. “Wait, really?”

“Yes! What the fuck is wrong with you, leaving it out in the open like that?”

“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know…” Morrison trailed off, seeming rightfully upset. “Thanks.”

That threw him off. “What?”

“Thanks? For making sure that didn’t happen?”

“Oh. Right. Well, don’t thank me yet. I’m going to kick your ass when we get back to base. For now, we have another person to fuck up.”

“We do?”

Gabriel didn’t usually do much besides warn the would-be-victim on the rare occasions that he caught sight of a situation like this, but-- well. He was furious. There was a sick, terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and even though he was taking it out on Morrison, it was directed towards the man in his late twenties at the back of the bar, watching them out of the corner of his eye as he waited for his moment.

He didn’t waste time wondering _why_ he was more upset than usual, instead directing his thoughts towards action.

“Pretend to drink. They work fast. A couple of minutes after, fake the symptoms I’ll tell you in a moment. Head outside. He’ll follow. I’ll follow him. We’ll be able to corner him alone and kick his goddamn teeth in.”

Morrison looked stricken. “Wait, what? That’s-- I mean--”

“So you’d prefer him be disappointed, then go for another target in about fifteen minutes? And succeed that time?”

“No! I just, well, I mean--”

“Shut the fuck up and do what I say. You need to be more careful. This isn’t the goddamn middle of nowhere like you’re used to, farmboy.” Morrison’s eyes blazed at the insult. “Fine.” He snapped, snatching the drink off of the table and pretending to take a long sip.

“I haven’t told you the symptoms yet, idiot.”

After giving Morrison a quick crash course, he stalked away to nurse his own drink in the corner. Morrison acted normal for a moment, then did a _terrible_ impression of a drugged man and stumbled out of the bar.

It somehow worked. The man at the back didn’t give any indication of triumph, but quickly made his way out of the bar behind Morrison. Gabriel followed.

Once outside, he turned into the alley-- and saw the man land facedown on the concrete.

“What now?” Morrison said, staring expectantly at him.

He ignored the sudden, unexpected glowing feeling in his chest of that so idiotic, yet so intelligent man looking up to _him_ for direction. Instead focused on the asshole with his now-chipped front tooth.

Gabriel kicked him over onto his back, ignoring the wheeze, and scowled down.

“Hey, asshole. Trying to drug military guys?”

The man let out a hoarse laugh. “I like the way they struggle t--” He cut off with a gasp as Gabriel pulled him up and slammed him into the wall, his head bouncing off of the bricks with a sickening crack.

“Should we really be doing this?” Morrison fretted. “I mean, justified or not, it’s still illegal. Not to mention I’m pretty sure you just gave him brain damage.”

“We won’t get caught. What’s he gonna do, go to the cops and say that the guy he tried to drug fucked him up?” He snorted, pulled the man’s head away and slammed it again into the bricks. “He’s a waste of human life anyways. The brain damage might do him some good.”

Morrison still winced at the third smash of skull into stone.

_It’s true I did some real damage._ He scowled at his own thoughts, let the man fall onto the ground and clutch his bloodied head. Kicked him again. _I’m not usually this upset._

_….It was a personal insult. That’s why. Morrison fucking deserves it, the idiot he is just leaving his drink out like that. I don’t give a fuck about him. This guy thinking he could do that to any S-squad soldier is an insult to me, because that’s my class and it insinuates the same naiveté and idiocy about me._

_I don’t care about him._

And yet, two minutes later as he dragged Morrison out of the alley and back to the bus stop, that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach remained. Something almost akin to fear. 

He snapped at Morrison for the majority of the ride back to base, who had least had the decency to look embarrassed. Hopefully some of the lessons would stick, for the next time Morrison accompanied him into the city.

When they finally got back to base, Morrison stepped off of the bus and turned to him. He seemed a little crestfallen, and it _almost_ made him feel the barest hint guilty.

“I guess you were right.” Morrison said, no humor in his tone at all. “Babysitting. I’m sorry, Reyes. I won’t ask again.”

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Shut the fuck up. I didn’t just tell you how to survive in the city for no reason. We’re going again next month. Well. Provided we have the time off.”

Morrison’s expression grew perplexed. “Really?”

“Obviously.”

He refused to admit how much that small smile eased the pain in his chest.

“Well. If you’re sure. Thanks.”

They began to head back into base.

“Training tomorrow?” He asked.

Morrison perked up at that. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to ask you how you did that one move in hand-to-hand.”

“Can’t give away all my secrets, but… guess I can give you a hint.”

“A hint is more than enough. See you tomorrow, Reyes.”

“Later, Jack.”

He turned and began to walk to the other side of the barracks-- and nearly choked on the realization.

_Jack…?_

No. Not a _chance_. He wasn’t on a first name basis with anyone here. They were squadmates. Professional. If the rest of them wanted to be all cozy with each other and call each other by their first names, that was their burden. _He_ wouldn’t fall into that groove.

But _Jack_ had felt a lot better on his tongue.

Despite every promise to himself, he slipped up again the next week. Unfortunately, it was in front of every member of the squad as they exited transport after a successful mission.

“Hurry the fuck up, Jack.” He said, as Morrison took a few moments too long to get out of the aisle.

He instantly bit his tongue, pointedly ignoring the multiple heads that had swiveled his way.

Thankfully, Morrison didn’t make a deal out of it. He simply apologized and made his way through the aisle and down the stairs of the aircraft.

_Fuck._

Later that week as he wandered towards the weights room, he approached a corner turn in the hall and halted as he heard familiar voices.

“Hey, Jack.” Remman’s voice.

Then Jack’s voice. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Not much. So, what the hell’s up with you and Reyes?”

“What do you mean?”

“He called you _Jack_. Let you go into the city with him.” “Oh. Well, I think he’s warming up to me.”

“He’s planning something. I hope you realize that. He’s not the type of person to have friends-- he has assets.”

Jack laughed. “A friendship is just a mutual asset, so I guess that makes sense. He’s alright once you get to know him.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Sure. But he’s also some other things. Anyways, instead of asking _me_ , how about you try asking him instead?”

Remman snorted. “As if. He doesn’t respect me an _ounce_.” A pause. “Actually, hey. Did the Captain ask you to try to befriend him or something? Can’t imagine why else you would’ve tried that hard. I mean, you sat with him for _weeks_ while he did nothing but glare and snap at you.”

_Oh. That makes sense. I wondered why._ He ignored the sinking feeling.

“What the fuck, Remman. No! The Captain only mentioned Gabriel to apologize for his actions in advance. He actually advised that I stay _away_.” Jack said.

“So why didn’t you?!”

“I don’t know. He was _good_. At everything. I was impressed. Wanted to know more about him. He ended up being a neat person to talk with, on the rare occasion he spoke. So… I kept trying.”

“You’re insane.” Remman said.

“He’s human, you know. In any case, I don’t really expect too much. I doubt he’ll ever really respect me, but he’s a great partner out in the field, so that’s fine.”

“If you say so.”

Gabriel took a few hasty steps back, made as if he’d just been approaching. Jack turned the corner just as he was nearing the edge.

“Hey Gabriel!” He greeted, beaming. 

Remman just gave him a sullen look.

“Morrison.” He said curtly.

“Heading to weights? I just got done.” Jack said. “Need a spotter?”

_No_. His mind supplied out of habit. “Fine.” His mouth said.

Four, nearly five months after Jack had joined the squad, Gabriel grudgingly considered him a friend. Worse?

Everybody knew it.


	2. In which Gabriel and Jack ruin the day of several unfortunate people

The call came in at nearly five-forty in the morning.

Madrid. Terrorist group. Eighteen dead and counting. Unknown origin, but an S-class danger— no question.

They were out of their bunks in an instant; those who had still been in bed, at least. Morrison had already eaten and dressed, the only one even half-awake as everyone stumbled onto transport and began to gear up.

Bastard.

“Reyes.” Jack greeted. His eyes were sparkling with amusement, despite the somber nature of their call. Perhaps he was desensitized. Perhaps it was his nature.

He grunted in return, too sleepy to speak, and accepted the proffered energy bar with none of the usual reluctance.

Everyone turned as the Captain stood to brief them, almost as awake and composed as Morrison.

“More information just filtered through. The terrorists have been identified as Sokolowski and his group. For those of you who need a refresher, he’s the bastard who gassed half of the population of the US military base in Hawaii, children and all. His men then went through and picked off any survivors. Stole documents and fled before help could arrive. He went from B-class to S-class in that one move. He’s only become more dangerous since then. Right now, he has the _Torre de Cristal_ held hostage. Over twelve-thousand people are currently in the tower —the tallest in Spain, with the recent addition of the one-hundred-tenth floor— and we’re lucky there isn’t the usual fifteen-odd thousand. Their demands are simple. For everyone to sit back and do nothing until they finish… whatever it is they’re doing in there. The brass thinks that stopping them is worth the risk of twelve-thousand lives lost. There are roughly one-hundred heavily armed and well-trained terrorists, reports of _several_ bombs, and Sokolowski himself to contend with.”

Silence.

“Our mission is, as usual, to stop them with whatever means necessary. Brass has deemed whatever they’re doing to be… on a _need-to-know_ basis. That, for some reason, does not include us.” The Captain said. He didn’t seem happy about it. “I’ll attempt to lead a team of seven through the tunnels and up through the basement. Faraday, lead a team of four on standby diversion duty. Reyes, you’ll lead a team of three around the side and attempt access through the roof. Take the climbing equipment— oh, and Morrison. The walls are all glass. Be careful. In fact, everyone be careful. Our number-one priority is stealth. If they find out we’re infiltrating, twelve-thousand lives will pay for it. We know they won’t blow the building with Sokolowski inside, but one-hundred men with machine guns can kill a _lot_ of hostages before being stopped by sixteen men. Understood?”

Sixteen salutes.

Morrison was already beside him, so he gathered Madocki and Carter for his other two. They were the most bearable of the squad.

“This will be tough.” Morrison mused as they went over the architectural plans. They weren’t fully updated. Something to do with current construction near the top floor. “All glass, all sides. One-hundred men will have a tough time keeping an eye on all four sides for one-hundred-plus floors, but one slip-up…” He trailed off, a thoughtful look on his face.

Gabriel tore his gaze away from the too-white teeth gnawing on a split lower lip, banished half-formed traitorous thoughts that had no right to exist and went back to the architecture.

“The Captain mentioned they blocked all enemy comms.” He said instead. “All drones are downed. They have no outside visuals, so at the very least they’re relegated to what they can see with their own eyes. Doubt they’ve had time to set up a camera network within— not on that many floors.”

“At the very least.” Carter mumbled. He’d always been a pessimist.

“It’s not too bad.” Jack reasoned in return. “One of us goes up, maps out enemy patterns, and designates a path for the others. Right, Reyes?”

He didn’t look into or at those eyes as he replied.

“Affirmative. First fifteen floors and the last twelve are covered due to construction, on two sides. Tarpaulin. It should provide _some_ cover if we move in from there, though, they’ll also be expecting it. May have more enemy observation on the visible floors there.”

“So what?” Madocki asked. “Double-bluff them? Climb up the fully visible side?”

It was a gamble either way; Gabriel knew that, and the stakes were high.

Jack was still looking at him. “Up the tarpaulin side, then lateral, and up depending on their movements?” He said. His voice was somewhere between a suggestion and certainty that Gabriel was already thinking the same thing.

He was, of course. It was the optimal solution. Even _Cook_ would’ve come to that conclusion eventually.

“Affirmative.” He said after a moment’s thought. “Morrison, you’ll take point until we reach the top. That’s your playground.”

He ignored the way Jack’s face lit up at the words. _Is it the danger he likes, or something else?_

The _Torre de Cristal_ was beautiful, even in the sun of mid-morning. A small part of him, as he watched the clouds play off of the shimmering glass, wanted to see it at sunset. He could tell just by a single glance that the colors would be incredible. He wasn’t there to admire the architecture, however, and threw himself back into the details of their plan.

Their Transport touched down and released them onto the unnervingly empty streets of a city under attack. It was one of his least favorite parts of the job; seeing a city this magnificent so… dead.

Lonely.

The Captain sent them off and went for the tunnels, leaving Gabriel and his team to stare at the Tower with apprehension.

_Why couldn’t these assholes have attacked at night?_

S-Squad excelled at stealth, but sneaking up on a skyscraper made of glass in broad, sunny daylight wasn’t a simple task. 

As he was musing over ideas, he felt gloved fingers ever-so-slightly brush his arm. “Gabriel.”

He turned, not even remembering to snap at the touch, and found himself staring into a face that was becoming far too familiar for his taste. “What?”

“Sorry.” Jack apologized nevertheless. “You wouldn’t respond to your name. Look over there.”

Gabriel turned to where Morrison was gesturing. There was a group of bomb-disarmament specialists.

“Yeah?”

“Well, we’re here to take risks, right?” Morrison asked.

He wasn’t sure if he liked where this was going. “Reasonable risks.”

“I doubt they’ll start shooting if people take measurements of the glass panels and whatnot.” Jack said. “You know, trying to determine the structural integrity of the tower. There _are_ bombs in there.”

“I don’t think that’s typical behavior. But the men up there probably don’t know that.” He added as Morrison opened his mouth to likely say the same thing. “You’re thinking the bomb squad goes up and pokes around at the base of the building; some behind the tarpaulin and some not. They take a couple dozen soldiers for protection. We slip in with the tarpaulin side and hope they don’t take a count of how many leave.”

Morrison laughed, just a little. “Er, sort of. Your idea is a little better. It’s still pretty damn suspicious, but we don’t have many options.”

“No. We don’t.” Gabriel said. He made a quick decision. “We’ll have to hope they’re distracted enough. I’ll go speak with their Captain. Good catch.”

He turned as he spoke those last words, but still managed to catch a glimpse of how Jack’s eyes lit up at the compliment— as if...

He didn’t have time to think about it.

The Captain of the Bomb Squad had a quick discussion with his team, and agreed with some reluctance to help. The man was obviously dubious as to how well their half-formed plan would work, but the very name of the S-Squad held weight. 

It _did_ work, as far as he could tell. No alarms were raised as Morrison tested the climbing gear, which worked slightly less well on the tarpaulin than glass.

“Can’t believe you’re actually using gear.” Madocki joked, strapping himself up as well.

Jack scoffed. “I’m decent at climbing, but even I can’t scale fourteen-hundred feet of smooth glass.”

“Decent.” Carter repeated with scorn.

“A master.” Jack corrected himself, bright smile appearing for a split second as he began his ascent.

Gabriel had no particular fear of heights, but it was still disconcerting to rise hundreds of feet above the concrete with nothing holding him up but some gear that’d sat unused in storage for several months— at least.

He was second in their crowded line, so he was able to get a clear view of Jack’s face. There was no fear. No worry. Thankfully, it wasn’t the usual flippant energy either. There was concentration there, visible in the crease of his brow and the intense gaze into glass and modern periscopic technology to plan their route to the top.

It took a little over an hour to get up, which was far faster than Gabriel had expected. Their gear sped them up, sure, but Morrison’s relentless pace certainly helped as well. Not that any of them had _trouble_ keeping up— just perhaps wouldn’t have been comfortable doing so at those heights.

They clambered their way onto the top of the building, where they took out five men standing around a helicopter. Guarding it, it had seemed.

“The big bossman must’ve come in on this.” Carter said, stating the obvious in his usual way.

Gabriel didn’t even bother to make a noise of affirmation, instead running interference on the comms devices of the unconscious enemy agents.

Well. One might’ve been dead. He didn’t bother checking, and Madocki was the one tasked with restraining them.

As he worked, he caught glimpses of Jack scouting the perimeter of the rooftop, rifle in hand and that same grin plastered on his face. It worried him, sometimes. Other times, it…

He went back to his work.

“We should plant a charge.” He said as Madocki returned from his work.

Madocki nodded, riffled through his bag for one of the more discreet charges and planted it under one of the metal slats of the helicopter. It was his specialty; explosives and little gadgets like that. As he finished up, Jack maneuvered back through the construction equipment to report. 

“Done, Reyes! Nothing unusual around, insofar as I can tell. We should be clear to move in whenever you say.”

He nodded, finished up with the comms and began the wait for clearance. 

After the call from the Captain, they cracked open the door to the staircase and went into the building. It was silent— unnervingly so, and each thumping step of their booted feet seemed far too loud. There was nothing for it, unfortunately.

Several floors down, they reached an impasse. Nowhere to go, no direct orders besides the usual _stop them_ , no enemy in his sight to shoot. It was a massive building, the terrorists spread within and netted out to catch any intrusion. It wasn’t a worst-case scenario by far, but it still wasn’t good.

“Carter, Madocki. East wing. Morrison, with me. West.”

He should really put Morrison and Carter together, he knew. Carter could use the extra skill more than he could.

But, well, it’d be a waste. Gabriel and Morrison just worked so damn well together— perfectly so. He wasn’t willing to give it up, and it wasn’t as if it would make a huge difference either way.

Not to mention, he felt that if he lifted his eyes off of Morrison for a second, the idiot would charge off into danger without a care in the world for his own safety. He’d seen it happen dozens of times, and it never failed to make his heart leap into his throat. It hadn’t gone south yet — _yet_ — but today wasn’t going to be the day.

Nobody argued.

He gave Carter and Madocki further orders, then turned back to see Jack staring at him with selfsame expectant eyes.

“No orders. We’ll wing it.” He said. Jack was the only person he could trust to match him, and the only person he could ever say those words to.

“Got it.” Jack hefted his rifle and winked. “Let’s go kill some fucking terrorists.”

He had to resist a returning smile, something getting harder and harder by the day. Gabriel gave an affirming noise instead and took point, heading down into the west wing of the ninety-fourth floor. According to intel from below, there had supposedly been an uptick of activity somewhere.

They found it quickly.

He crouched in the hall, held out a hand behind him to force Jack into a halt. From the edge, he could see a number of corpses— five or six office workers, piled in a pool of blood so extensive that there was no chance any had survived. Bullet wounds. As Gabriel studied the scene from the shadows, a voice rose from just out of sight. Male. Talking in that slightly too-loud tone that indicated one was speaking into some sort of comms device.

“Still clear up here.” The voice said. “No more hostages have decided they’d rather die than take a couple hours off of their paperwork duty.”

That put the pile of corpses in a new light. An impressive light. The reason these sorts of attacks worked; a hundred men keeping thousands hostage, was because of humanity’s innate sense of self-preservation. Not cowardice, really; simply the fact that nobody wanted to die. A dozen office workers could swarm a lone gunman and take him out, but at least one or two would likely die in that process, and who would want to risk being the sacrifice? Everyone wanted to be a hero, but when it came down to it, few people would truly risk themselves over the chance of another stepping up to take that fatal place.

This had been an aborted attempt. Brave people, sure, but dead ones. A real shame they’d gained nothing from it. Gabriel allowed himself a small twinge of sadness before shoving it aside and forming a plan.

He leaned back, tugged Jack close to whisper in his ear. Jack stiffened —likely at the suddenness— but allowed it without complaint.

“Three men.” He whispered. “Tense. Jumpy. Hostages fought back. Failed. Machine guns. Head to the other end of the hall; should be another door into that room there. I’ll cause a distraction. You take the two closest out from behind, then I’ll get the third. Understood?”

“Understood.” Jack said, a bubbling hint of excitement in his tone. The feeling of his breath against his neck made Gabriel suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were. He shoved Jack away, thankfully towards the needed direction, and swallowed hard at the sudden increase in his heart rate. Jack seemed to think nothing of it; just Gabriel being Gabriel, and went off without complaint.

Gabriel wished he would complain, sometimes. It’d make it easier for him to distance himself from those too-spirited, near-bloodthirsty eyes that had just been inches from his.

He’d never liked blue eyes before. Too… Hollywood.

 _I still don’t._ He reminded himself. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to force himself back onto task. It mostly worked.

It wasn’t a thorough plan, but it worked nevertheless. He tapped his shotgun against the wall once, then after a sufficient pause, flicked one of the ball bearings from his pocket into the nearby door. It made a dull _thump_ far too loud for anyone to ignore.

A mumble from inside. Hesitant footsteps that approached the door near which he stood just out of sight. A gun cocking.

Doubting Morrison never crossed his mind, not even as the footsteps got closer than he liked.

One shot. A cry from within. The footsteps nearing him instantly halted, boots thumping as the approaching man whirled to face the muted _bang_ of Jack’s rifle. As the second shot rang out, Gabriel whipped around the corner and put a shell into the man’s head just as he raised his rifle to aim for Morrison.

Three men dead, two-hundred hostages in varying states of distress. It was less than he’d expected.

_They must’ve put most of the hostages in one area with more men._

_This building is far more empty than I thought._

It certainly made things easier.

He bent and picked up the earpiece of one of the men. Clipped it to his phone, and let the a-susp program run. It would pull former speech that’d been through the comms, mod it with the help of the poindexters outside to reassure whoever was on the other end that nothing was wrong.

“Not many hostages.” Jack murmured, echoing his earlier thoughts. He wasn’t staring at the living he was talking about, however, instead inspecting one of the terrorists he’d shot a moment prior.

“Find anything?” He asked, clipping the other two earpieces to other slots.

Jack hummed, pawing through gear. “No convenient notes with a planned monologue of their evil plot, unfortunately. But…”

“But?”

“Take a look at this.” Jack said. He held up a small metal tube etched with a familiar marking.

_Where have I seen that? It looks…_

He opened his mouth, but Morrison made a silencing gesture and glanced towards the hostages. The implication was clear. There could be a listener.

“What do we say to them, Gabriel?” Morrison asked instead.

Gabriel grimaced. “I dunno. Tell them not to move from this room. The usual.” 

“Me?” Morrison said with false innocence. The humor sparkling in his eyes was only one step removed from the ardent violence of earlier.

“Shut up and do it.”

Morrison saluted. Stood, walked over to a small group and spoke to them. After a moment, the assorted businessfolk nodded and murmured to those behind them. Repeated.

Carter and Madocki never saluted him. Then again, it’d been a mock salute, and _they_ didn’t dare mock him. “What’d you do?”

“Well, I wasn’t about to yell. Told them to spread the word that they shouldn’t move.”

Gabriel squinted. “As long as they don’t telephone it and end up storming the building due to misconception.”

Jack shrugged. “If they do, nobody to blame but themselves. I doubt the message will get lost in _this_ situation.”

Instead of responding Gabriel walked out, leaving Jack to follow with a slightly sullen expression that soon re-brightened into his usual field-drunk self.

“Tube.” He said, holding his palm out flat.

Jack set it in his hand, their fingers brushing ever-so-slightly. Gabriel didn’t even notice. Why would he?

The tube was metallic; steel, most likely, and stoppered with a tough putty. It was a little larger than your average test-tube, if around the same shape, and featureless except for the etching.

A lyre, a smattering of dots within the lines.

He knew it from _somewhere_. He just couldn’t recall the exacts. He grimaced, looked up to see Morrison studying his face. “Well?” Jack prompted; ever-impatient.

“Dunno.” He said.

Jack’s eyes narrowed in thought, only the slightest hint of blue visible.

“Hey Mister Perfect, you read the full dossier, right?”

“Yes. Did you not?”

“I was too busy with the architectural plans.” Morrison said with an unabashed shrug. “What companies have offices in this building?”

“A lot. Seventy-four, to be exact. None of them—”

 _Oh._ Oh. 

“Damnit, Jack. You’re right.” He said, pretending to himself that he didn’t keep an eye out for any change of expression at what basically amounted to praise. Pretending that he wasn’t disappointed when he found nothing but a smile. “It’s the logo of Cyclades-Nine. The company that deals in prosthetics and neural modifications. They… they have a major office in this building.”

“I guess we know where we’re headed.” Jack said.

They reported to the Captain, who was dubious and busy enough downstairs, and received clearance to give it a quick sweep.

“You’ve got the memory of a Nutcracker.” Jack said as they descended through the stairwell to the fifty-fifth floor.

“...What?”

“You know, the bird. Forget the exact type. They’ve got an incredible memory. Thousands of seed cache locations stored in that little head of theirs.”

“.... _What_?”

“It was a compliment, Reyes.” Jack sighed. There was a fondness in his tone that Gabriel didn’t want to analyze at the moment.

He didn’t dignify the whole Nutcracker comment with a response, instead delivering an incredulous look that was shot down by a wink.

Bastard.

The fifty-fifth floor was near-empty, at least, until they neared the section of the building that housed the offices of Cyclades-Nine. He and Jack crouched at the edge of the stairwell, scrutinizing the situation and each formulating bits and pieces of a plan they knew would fit together with little effort. Four men stood before glass double-doors marked with a nine-dotted Lyre, each heavily armed and armored. Three of the men’s faces were obscured by masks, but the fourth had pulled his down for a drink of water.

“How much longer?” One of the masked men asked. His shoulders were tense, and his fingers danced jittery patterns across his rifle.

“However long the boss says.” The fourth man said, not bothering to lift his mask back to his face if he’d ever worn it at all. 

Made sense. He was already a known criminal; a face Gabriel had memorized months prior.

_Gage Murphy. Formerly IRA, until he gave up the pretense that he was in the business for the sake of his homeland rather than his love of bloodshed and money._

Gage was a big player. Dangerous. A-Level. Charismatic. A leader.

_If he’s working for Sokolowski…. Well. Things just got a lot more complicated. Why work for him? Money? Surely Sokolowski could find somebody cheaper. What’s Gage’s game? He wouldn’t agree to serve as a bullet shield. Not without good reason._

Too many unknown’s. Gage’s motives were yet to be determined, at least according to the dossier he’d read so long ago. The one he’d been reading right before he’d first met Jack, actually. Hell of a coincidence.

“Still calling him that?” Another one of the masked men said, voice tinged with amusement.

“Aye. We’ve to keep the pretense up a bit longer. Can’t rightly fall out of the habit, can I?”

The one masked man who hadn’t yet spoken up, did. 

“What are you guys talking about?”

Gage’s nonplussed expression didn’t change as he gave an airy wave of his hand. The way one of his men drove the blade into the confused terrorist’s armor was just as casual.

“So, soon then?” The man asked, wiping the blood from the knife on his fallen former comrade’s glove before letting him slump to the floor.

Gage stretched, checked his watch. “Aye.” He said again. “Sokolowski should be done soon. I hope you lot remember the plan.”

His two men nodded. It was impossible to see their expressions through the mask, but their body language was familiar. Confidence and excitement, tight grips on their weapons and shifting feet.

Gabriel pulled Jack back a few meters into the stairwell, dropped his voice to a whisper.

“This complicates things.”

It was almost worrying how happy Jack was about the situation. “Plots within plots.” He whispered back. “His own men.”

“Not just any men. That’s Gage Murphy.”

Jack’s blank expression was no surprise, but he rolled his eyes anyhow. Morrison wasn’t the type to pour over dossiers. Not like Gabriel.

He quickly explained what he knew of Murphy, not that it did either of them any good in discerning the man’s plans.

“There’s no way Sokolowski doesn’t know that’s him. Right?” Jack asked.

“It’s possible.” Gabriel said reluctantly. “Recognizable face, but he might’ve managed to keep it hidden if among enough other mercenaries that a single identity didn’t matter.”

“Very recognizable.” Jack said in a tone that Gabriel didn’t like, and didn’t like that he didn’t like.

_Is he… not straight?_

What did Gabriel care, anyways? 

He didn’t.

“Keep it together, Morrison.” He said a bit more gruffly than intended.

“Sorry. So, we pit them against one another? Civil war is better than the alternative.”

“We don’t know the alternative.” Gabriel reminded.

Jack hummed. “Then what? Do nothing and watch it play out?”

Gabriel thought about it for a while. Eventually, he radioed for the Captain.

Or tried to. Comms were cut.

_Fuck._

That meant that the enemy knew something was up, more likely than not. They hadn’t heard gunshots that indicated mass civilian slaughter, at least, so it wasn’t entirely a lost cause.

“Comms are cut.”

Jack grimaced, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“Just you and me then, huh Reyes?”

He swallowed. “Guess so.”

“Well if anyone is going to fix the whole thing, makes sense it’d be us.”

Gabriel bit his tongue and failed to formulate a response for the fifteenth time that day. Instead, he dug out one of the enemy comms devices from his satchel. “I’m going to drop Sokolowski a hint. Maybe you’re right. Civil war is better than nothing.”

“Unless Gage is trying to stop Sokolowski.” Jack said. There was something devilish flickering in his intense stare, now. Something challenging him.

“And why would he do that? The kindness of his heart?” Gabriel sneered back.

A quiet laugh. “Take whatever it is Sokolowski is grabbing for himself, probably. Who would you rather end up with it, Gabriel?”

“We— we don’t know what it is.”

“No. But which enemy would you rather have something of vague importance? _You’re_ the one who memorized hundreds of dossiers. We can’t get ahold of the Captain. It’s up to you.”

It was true, Gabriel realized. 

It could go either way. This mission. People’s lives.

The prospect scared him far less than he thought it would.

“Jack.”

“Gabriel.”

“Up for some danger?” “Thought you’d never ask.” Jack’s smile was just short of the type they usually shot at.

There was no reason for Jack to trust Gabriel as much as he did. They’d only known each other a few months, and they were technically the same rank. There was no reason for Jack to throw himself in the line of fire on a half-formed plan they’d cobbled together in the span of three minutes. There was no reason for Gabriel to worry as much and as little as he did; each for the wrong reasons.

He analyzed enemy wavelengths as Jack wove his way through the building, maneuvering to the other side of the Cyclades-Nine offices. Once Jack was hopefully in position, he rose the enemy comms device to his mouth.

“Boss wants you lot inside. We’ve got a little trouble.” He said, affectating a thick Eastern-European accent.

Gage froze. Lifted his hand to his ear and frowned. “Damn.”

“Trouble?” One of the masked men asked.

“Maybe. Sokolowski wants us inside. Might’ve realized our plans. Might really need the help. Can’t imagine what with, though. _Damn_.” He cursed again. “Dewey, get the body into a closet or somethin’ and head up to the roof. Frances, with me. Sokolowski is a brilliant idiot. We can handle him.”

As Dewey stepped into the starwell, Gabriel choked him unconscious and restrained him, tossed him into the same closet and went to the now-unguarded glass doors.

No reason to kill him, Gabriel reasoned. Not when they may need to question him later.

It was quiet inside Cyclades-Nine. He passed several bodies on his way in; all office workers and the occasional security guard. It put him somewhat on edge, being entirely alone— and knowing that Morrison was in the same position on the opposite side of the section. Comms were cut, so all he could do was hope that Morrison hadn’t gotten into any trouble. That he’d managed to get into position in time. There was nothing left to do but trust him.

Gabriel had never left the fate of a mission even partially in another’s hands, before. Not like this. He’d never been comfortable trusting somebody like he did Jack.

His trust was well-founded.

Maybe even more so, as Jack returned to him with more than expected.

“I took out the other half of their guard as planned.” Morrison murmured, falling silent as a couple of people passed the meeting room they crouched within. He resumed as the shadows disappeared from view. “Found a little something else, too.”

As Gabriel opened his mouth, Jack held up a— a _severed hand._ Its fingers were long, bloodless, with primly painted long nails.

“ _Jack_.”

“Don’t look at me like that! I certainly didn’t cut the thing off. Found it on the floor just outside the largest office in the place. I’m pretty sure they deprived its former owner to get into biometrically-sealed areas or safes or computers or something.”

“Duh. Did you try it out on anything?”

“No. Kept it in case we needed to, though.” Morrison made a face. “I’m glad we wear gloves.”

“Really?” He held out his hand. “I can hold it.”

Morrison ignored him and slid it into a pouch on his belt. “Nah, I just like complaining. What’s next, Reyes?” 

“Have you seen Sokolowski? Gage?”

The Cyclades-Nine offices were large; the largest in the _Torre de Cristal_ , and extended seven floors only connected to the rest of the building by the two sets of double-glass doors on either side of the fifty-fifth floor. The company seemed to value its privacy, though not enough to avoid the lure of such a populated central location for its offices.

Unfortunately, all of this meant that it would be more difficult for Jack and Gabriel to find the enemy in time.

_In time for what?_

“I overheard Sokolowski and some of his men storming by at one point. My Polish is… _limited_ to say the least, but even I can recognize when somebody is cursing up a storm. I get a feel that they were looking for Gage, but I can’t be sure.”

Gabriel hummed, eyes glued to one of the pale fingers sticking out of Jack’s pouch. “Show me where you found the hand.”

Jack blinked at that, but didn’t argue.

The office they stepped into was large, guarded by two men easily disposed of, and filled with expensive trinkets and paintings. The largest painting; a regally-posed woman, was riddled with bullet holes. Gabriel couldn’t blame them. It was garish.

The woman from the painting, the CEO — _former CEO_ — was just as bullet-riddled as her painting and missing a hand. She was laying not in the largest puddle of blood near the desk, but tossed uncaringly, sprawled and crooked-angled into a corner.

They both ignored the body.

Gabriel went to the computer and checked it. Sure enough, biometrically locked. He gestured Jack over.

He didn’t have to ask. Jack stepped over, pulled the hand out and pressed it to the lock left of the monitor.

“Welcome.” A voice said, reverberating around the room far too loudly for Gabriel’s taste. He knew the walls were likely soundproof, but it still made him uneasy with the cracked door.

Four minutes later, he’d gone through all recently accessed files. What he found didn’t make him any less troubled. He stood, turned to see Jack peering at him with just as much intensity as Gabriel had at the computer.

“What’d you find?”

“They tried to wipe their presence. Guess they didn’t have time to finish the job. Sokolowski is here for a prototype, I’m pretty sure. Some sort of chemical that’s supposed to fuck with your neurons and make you more intelligent. Or something like that. I’m not a scientist.”

Jack just barely failed to hide a smile— and succeeded at hiding a jibe, Gabriel knew from experience. 

“Alright. So we steal it back, yeah?”

Gabriel bit his lip. “Our mission is to protect the civilians first and foremost.”

“But?” Jack pressed.

“But I’m pretty sure the rest are handling that. Nobody’s here but us, after all. If Sokolowski gets this… prototype out of here, then he’ll likely sell it to the highest bidder. We don’t need our enemies any more intelligent than they already are.”

“Assuming that it works.” Jack clarified.

“We can’t afford to assume anything else.”

Jack hummed, shoved the hand back into his bag. “Alright. So we steal it back and kill or capture him?”

“Preferably. I’d also like to know what Gage is doing here. Does he want the prototype for himself? Is it something else? It might—”

 _Speak of the devil._ Voices in the hallway, one he recognized as Gage himself. They were heading directly for the office.

A quick glance around showed no exit. There was a door on the opposite wall that would lead to a bathroom or closet, but to head there would be to pass in front of the half-opened door and reveal their presence.

 _Fuck._ He scanned the rest of the room, but there were no more obvious places the two of them would fit. From what Gabriel could tell, there were seven or eight men heading their way— too many to reasonably take out without being killed themselves.

“Here.”

Gabriel turned just in time to see the bookshelf behind the desk slide open, Jack turning and brandishing the severed hand with a grin.

The space within was small, mostly crowded by boxes and a few weapons attached to the wall. Less of a safe room, and more storage and preparation done by somebody who hadn’t actually _thought_ about using the weapons she’d promised herself would protect her. It was about big enough for one person. Probably not meant to be a hiding spot.

 _How didn’t Sokolowski catch this? Maybe he didn’t care enough to check._ The latter was more likely. Why bother with fifty-thousand dollars in cash and some guns that hadn’t been oiled in years, when something worth tens of millions was sitting in a lab one floor down?

They made it work. No other choice, really. He shoved Morrison inside and crowded in after him, pulling the bookshelf shut just as Gage and his men entered the office. Morrison was grumbling something, but he was too focused on the muffled voices from outside to bother listening to complaints.

“When I find the bastard that betrayed me, I’m going to skin him alive and feed whatever’s left to my dogs.”

“You don’t have dogs, boss.”

“I’ll _get_ dogs!”

Beside him, Jack snickered. It was too dark to see much, but their limbs were so entangled in that cramped space that it didn’t much matter. 

Now that he was thinking about the body pressed to his, it was impossible to wrench his mind back to the men outside.

“Reyes.” The barest whisper tickling against his ear. He nearly, oh so _nearly_ flinched away. “Too many?” He wanted to nod, but it was dark, and he was likely to hit his head against something if he tried. “Seven or eight. Yes.”

A banging noise from outside; a fist against the desk.

“What do you _mean_ the hand is gone? Adelaide was supposed to leave it once Sokolowski was through!”

“It’s just not there, boss! I’ll— I’ll cut off the other hand.”

“No, you idiot. It has to be the right hand. _Fuck_. Sokolowski found out, didn’t he?” Moments of silence. A deep breath, and then Gage sounded far calmer. Collected. “Change of plans. We know where his safehouse is. Comms are cut by those bastards from the UN, so we’ll have to wait until we get out of here. Turns out we’ll have to kidnap his daughter after all. I don’t know if her life is worth the payload, but it should give him enough pause for us to find his location and get it either way.”

“Didn’t expect to go to plan E, huh boss?”

“No.” Gage said. “Better than plan K though. I certainly didn’t want to get out the fucking fire extinguishers”

Muffled laughter.

If nothing else, Gabriel had to respect Murphy’s leadership. He’d had a fairly thick dossier, and so far it’s all been accurate. He’d sacrifice any one of his men for any reason that suited him without pause, but somehow managed to convince them that he cared. That loyalty to him was more akin to friendship and mutual respect.

Despicable, but impressive.

Gage and his men filed out. When Jack reached for the button to release them, however, Gabriel caught his wrist.

“Wait.” He said. He had a feeling.

 _I should let go._ He realized forty seconds later as they waited in pitch-black silence. His hand was still wrapped around Jack’s wrist, too tight, but to no complaint as of yet.

Footsteps cut into his thoughts, a singular pair of boots whose owner began to rifle through papers.

 _Got him_.

He pulled Jack closer —entirely unnecessary, he knew in some corner of his mind— and murmured into his ear. “On three.”

He released Jack’s wrist, and on three, pressed the button to release them. The startled man barely had time to spin around before he was in a chokehold, a gun pressed to his temple.

“Nice call, Reyes.” Jack said. “How’d you know somebody was going to return?”

“A hunch. One of Gage’s men acted suspicious. Weird tone. Some things I heard over comms earlier. Figured he was a double agent for Sokolowski.”

“Fuck you.” The man spat. “Damn, you’re really something, aren’t you Gabriel? Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Jack said, and then laughed. “Well, your worse side that is.”

He didn’t know how to respond; something becoming far too common in Jack’s presence, and so glanced towards the door. “Try to find out what Sokolowski’s doing. I’ll scout.”

“Are you s—” Jack cut off the question, but the confusion was still plain on his face. It was usually the other way around, with Jack scouting and Gabriel handling the other task. True enough, but at that moment, Gabriel didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Not with the barely-forming purple mark peeking out from under the edge of Jack’s glove.

When he returned, Jack was sitting on the CEO’s desk and looking over one of the bottles of wine. The double-agent was bound on the floor near one of the overturned chairs.

“She had terrible taste.” Jack commented, and then set the wine down and hopped up. “Find anything?”

 _There’s no way he knows anything about wine. He only ever talks about corn vodka and goddamn hard apple cider._ “They’re almost ready to leave. They have the prototype. Gage and his men have vanished.”

Jack grimaced. “According to this poor bastard here, Gage decided on a full-retreat after discovering that the ATU moved in. Sokolowski is, as of now, unaware. Thinks his men were taken out by Gage’s, not anyone sent in by the UN. He doesn’t know Gage’s full plan or motive.”

“Understood. Leave him. We need to take care of Sokolowski before they get to extraction.”

“Think we can get the prototype? Think it’s worth it?”

Gabriel considered the question. “Yes. Maybe.”

“Alright then.” Jack stretched, swept his rifle from the table and made for the door. “On you, Reyes.”

They found Sokolowski near the top floor, just as he was giving orders to a few of his men. “Call for extraction.” He said from around the corner. “Get them onto transport. We have what we need.” 

They waited until Sokolowski was alone to strike, but it didn’t help much. Sokolowski was a massive man, almost all muscle, with two prosthetic arms that could crush steel and bones without a second thought. 

And he didn’t even need a first thought. It was almost as if he _expected_ the attack— turning and covering his face with his arm as bullets sprayed towards him. His torso and legs were well-armored, his arms nigh-unbreakable, and all that left was his head. The only weak point.

They didn’t have to communicate to coordinate an attack— not verbally, at least. It was likely the only reason they survived.

Gabriel never remembered much detail from that fight, likely due to a blow to the head he took a while later. All he knew was that he and Jack managed to badly injure Sokolowski before his men came to help him. The enemies fled to the roof, where he and Jack stumbled after them and out into the bright noonday sun. They dove behind construction equipment as bullets rained on them from the helicopter above, Sokolowski easily clambering up a rope using only the inhuman power of his arms. 

“Reyes!” Jack, covered in dust raised by bullets hammering onto concrete, held up a tiny box two inches across, a slightly dazed expression on his face likely stemming from the bloodloss. His leg was injured, though it was hard to tell from their odd angle half-under a crane.

“Is… that?” He was feeling woozy himself from the bullet in his side. It’d lodged just under a rib.

“I think so. It just fell.”

“Fell?”

“From his bag. I think some shrapnel from your shotgun tore it open earlier, and the hole just got wider during the fight. I guess... “

That was disappointingly anticlimactic, but it was still a win, and Gabriel wasn’t going to complain. 

As the helicopter slowly rose, Sokolowski managed to climb to the edge and sit in the cabin. He patted his bag, and the _oh-so-satisfying_ expression of dawning horror was just barely visible from where Gabriel and Jack crouched.

Gabriel could practically hear the thoughts running through Sokolowski’s mind. _The UN moved in. My men are dead, traitors, or with me. The bombs are likely disarmed. I have no leverage. Going back in would leave me open for death or capture._

He could _see_ Sokolowski wrestling with his fury and hatred, the moment he gave up the gamble of going back down for the prototype clutched in Jack’s hands. Apparently, Sokolowski didn’t consider the prototype worth his life or freedom. He simply stared at them with such deep, _raging_ fury that it was disconcerting, memorizing every part of their faces as the helicopter rose.

“The charge.” He remembered, fumbling for the mechanism in his pocket. He found it. Pressed it. Nothing happened.

 _What?_ Pressed it again.

“Looking for this?” He and Jack twisted in unison to see a masked man perched on a lower section of the crane. He had the charge in his hand. “Gage doesn’t like it when other people interfere with his plans.” He said, and then threw the charge down. 

Gabriel had a single instant to appreciate how dramatic the whole thing was before leaping for cover, Jack diving the opposite direction.

The charge was small; meant more to damage than destroy, but it was still enough to send concrete and metal and rubble flying around the top of the skyscraper. A large chunk of steel cracked into his skull, and then Jack was shaking his shoulder.

‘Reyes! Reyes, get up!”

There was a note of panic in his voice, shaking hands pressing a cloth to Gabriel’s head.

“I’m fine.” He managed to say. He swatted away the hands, pushed himself up. There was a long cut across Morrison’s cheek, and his leg seemed worse, but he was otherwise unharmed.

“We need to move. This area of the building is unstable.” Jack said, obviously biting back what he truly wanted to say. Probably a complaint.

Gabriel nodded, and the two of them made their way down several floors before meeting up with the Captain and a few others of the squad. They were escorting a rescue team tasked with evacuating civilians.

The Captain took one look at them and marched over, relief and annoyance in equal amounts on his face.

“Will you two _please_ explain what happened?”

Gabriel let Jack do the talking, more content to sit and listen as a medic pulled the lead out of his side; gave him a quick patch-up that would last until he got to the medical ward back at base.

It was funny. As Jack passed the prototype to the Captain, he felt a sudden surge of loss. If they were in a movie, or show, or book— it wouldn’t just end here. He and Jack would have two separate, complex enemies, a mysterious biomechanical prototype, an adventure. They would have avenues to explore. Secrets to uncover. A conspiracy to take apart.

But they weren’t heroes. They weren’t protagonists in one of his movies. They were soldiers. They would pass on the prototype, and it wouldn’t come up again unless they were ordered into action against another related terrorist threat. They were just… on the side.

It didn’t mean Gabriel couldn’t daydream. It… did throw him off, though, that this time, he wasn’t alone in his hastily-constructed mental adventure.

Later, on transport back to base, Jack came up and sat by him. Pressed a hand into his head without asking.

“How’s your head?”

“Fine.” He said, too tired to smack him away again. Maybe too tired to argue with himself that he didn’t want Jack near him. 

Jack pulled back anyways. “Maybe one day your vocabulary will expand past _fine_.”

“What about your leg?”

Jack’s eyes grew yet again devilish. A look now all-too familiar. A look that made his chest hurt.

“Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only edited this twice instead of for months, and it probably reflects that.
> 
> Can you tell I like the oh-no-we-have-to-hide-in-a-too-small-area trope? Because I do.


	3. In Which Gabriel Gives Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for what amounts to naught but a stepping-stone chapter. I'm running two tabletop campaigns, dealing with summer courses, and just got a job fixing the website of a masonry subcontractor.  
> And yet. R76 calls to me strongly enough that I continue on. More accurately, you all do. Thanks to all of you, especially ragdollnetic, Dammitdrake, ChiliSauce, and DustyMakesMistakes for making it an absolute joy to post and therefore doubling my writing speed.  
> Love y'all.

So much for not being a coward.

He was sick and _goddamn_ tired of lying to himself. Yeah, he had it for Jack. So what? A simple case of falling for a fellow soldier. Probably happened all the time. All Gabriel had to do about it was… stop. Right?

Easy.

Just stop thinking about Jack. What was so great about him, anyways? Besides the eyes that should’ve been cliche and unmemorable, but weren’t. Besides the way his head dropped down onto his palm when he fell asleep during movies. Besides the way he’d remained, silent and trusting with his wrist in Gabriel’s hand as they hid from enemy forces.

Besides the smile that lit up his face whenever he caught sight of Gabriel.

Besides being a highly competent soldier, of course. The way he could shoot and kill several men without blinking, then turn bloodstained and help a hostage up with just enough sincere charm that they forget about the spattered brains and the nature of the killer who had just taken their hand.

Because Jack _was_ a killer, through and through-- same as him, just better at making people forget the fact. It was something a lot of people forgot; both those inside and outside any combat branch of any military force. Those nameless, often-masked faces were just as human as the rest of them. They had mothers and fathers and loved ones, just the same.

Actually. Did they?

He’d never heard Jack talk about his family. Not much, at least. Gabriel called his grandmother at least once a week himself. He’d never seen Jack call anyone, family or friend or anything. He was about sixty-percent sure he’d heard Jack offhandedly mention something about a brother, but that was it. 

Oh, he talked about the farm and whatnot a decent bit, sure; lies about corn vodka and bonfires. Never family.

Gabriel, of course, didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business, and he didn’t care.

_Right. No more lying to myself._

It wouldn’t last long. He was excellent at self-deception, according to _Lita_.

Gabriel didn’t realize just how much he was paralyzed with indecision and overanalyzation until it was well past dark and he was left alone on one of the benches in the courtyard, long-forgotten datapad filled with lackluster dossiers on his lap.

_Fuck. I do have it bad._

Ignoring Jack until any feelings went away wasn’t an option. Frankly, it was impossible. Jack was like a goddamn limpet, and if he hadn’t left Gabriel alone after the first few months of Gabriel being a dick, he wasn’t about to leave him alone anytime soon.

_I can keep a handle on it._ He assured himself. _I wouldn’t want to push him away for logical reasons anyways. He’s excellent for my career, yeah? Makes me try harder and harder. Gives me a reason to get better. As long as he doesn’t figure it out, things will be fine. I have oodles of self-control._

_Right?_

After all, even the thought of pursuing that attraction was laughable. He wasn’t going to ruin his future military career with a _fraternization_ charge of all things. Not with somebody like that. Somebody who he’d have scoffed at back in LA. 

Though, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Jack looked like your typical Hollywood hero; sandy-white hair and bright blue eyes and light freckles and a winning smile. He had the look that thousands of idiots running around LA desperately tried to achieve.

Jack wasn’t _fake_. Not like them. He didn’t try for it, he was just… like that. That basic look, but with something real behind it. Something concrete. Impressive.

It was something he’d never really seen, though to be fair, people like he and Jack were rare.

“Gabe-- er, Gabriel. Are you alright? I didn’t see you at dinner.”

He barely resisted a jolt, turned his head to see Jack’s upper half draped across the back of the bench beside him. There was concern on his face; written in the slightest tilt of his head and the crease of his brow. He wondered if Jack could read his mannerisms as well. 

“Wasn’t hungry.” He lied, as if he hadn’t been busy thinking about Jack.

Jack hummed, hopped the back of the bench to settle in beside him. “I thought you got lost in your dossiers again, so I brought you something.”

Gabriel reached over and accepted the extended napkin without a second thought, unwrapped it to reveal a chocolate cupcake.

“The fuck did you get this?”

Jack shrugged. “They were handing them out in mess today. Hell if I know why. Probably another food conglomerate trying to get into a military-loving politician’s good graces.”

“Thanks.” He said. _I can’t believe I missed a cupcake day of all days-- and because I was thinking about a fellow soldier._

The fellow soldier who knew him well enough to bring him one. 

“Nah.” Jack waved his hand in dismissal. “You know me. I’m not a huge fan of chocolate anyways.”

He paused mid-bite, drew away. “This was yours?”

“I wasn’t going to eat it.”

“Thanks.” He said again.

After he finished the cupcake, he found that he could finally concentrate on his dossier now that Jack was with him. He read three, memorized the details while ignoring Jack’s rambling about what Cook and Kayes were doing next weekend, then stood, held out his hand to help Jack up, and went to bed. That was one nice thing about Jack. Another nice thing, actually, he supposed. 

He never felt _required_ to say anything. Jack didn’t pressure him, make him feel bad for not responding, or even seem offended. Comfortable silence with another person was… rare. He’d only ever had it with some of his friends back home, with the exception of Leo; who wouldn’t let him get away with his silence. Bastard.

It was just a damn shame he and Jack were squadmates. A damn shame Jack wasn’t interested. Above all, a damn shame he didn’t have room in his future for another person at his side.

_He took the shot._

He white-knuckled his shotgun, bloodied fingers squeezing the stock hard enough to hurt had adrenaline not been coursing through his veins.

_Why did he take the shot?_

He sat on a transport from Austria, Jack’s blood drying on his hands as they made their way back to base. 

It’d been his fault. Sloppy positioning. Miscounted enemy bullets. Part of him desperately wanted to blame Carter’s own varied mistakes-- but he couldn’t. Carter always made those mistakes. Gabriel planned around them. The soldier in him, the commander in him, wouldn’t let him avert any responsibility.

It’d been his fault. 

The bullet had been meant for him.

_He_ should’ve been the one bleeding out as medics worked to save his life one section of the transport over. 

He stared down at his stained hands, one thing above all on his mind.

_Why?_

They were friends. He’d admitted that months ago. They got along well. Fought together, trained together, went to bars and theatres together, and overall spent a too-high proportion of their waking hours with one another. 

None of that precedented jumping in front of a _fucking_ bullet.

_“Spread my ashes amongst the corn.”_

_“Don’t talk. It punctured a lung.”_

_“Relax, Gabriel. It’s not like I’m going to die.”_

_“Stop talking.”_

Making jokes. Making jokes in that teasing, devilish way he always had, as if he hadn’t just taken a bullet meant for Gabriel. As if he wasn’t coughing up gobs of blood from his collapsing lung and _dying_.

Why had he done it?

No. Gabriel knew the answer to that. Jack didn’t value his own life.

Always the first to leap headfirst into danger, the first to volunteer for the more suicidal positions, the first to risk his life for a squadmate. 

_“I don’t have much to live for.”_ Jack had mentioned once, offhand, after Gabriel had yelled at him for the umpteenth time after throwing himself into far more danger than necessary.

No. It wasn’t surprising that Jack had taken the bullet for him. The real question he was asking himself was _why had his expression been like that_? There was always a sparkle in Jack’s eyes when he pulled his idiotic stunts. Even when directing enemy fire from squadmates or civilians to himself, there was nothing but the thrill of combat on his face.

As the rifle had leveled itself in his direction, far too late for him to move or shoot or protect himself, he’d caught a glimpse. Panic. The sort of panic he’d never seen Jack show before. Jack wasn’t the panicking type. He had just the barest moment to register that look before he’d heard been shoved aside.

Hell, Cook had taken a knife to the chest right before Jack’s eyes once. Nearly died. There hadn’t been anything _close_ to that expression on Jack’s face, then.

So why? Because he felt some duty to protect Gabriel, since they partnered up in the field? It’d been Gabriel’s fault. Anyone could see that.

It should've been him lying unconscious on the table, obscured by a wall ten feet away. Or dead.

Jack always kept medical supplies on himself, luckily. A habit that had proved useful more than once, though Gabriel had never been able to get a straight answer about how he’d requisitioned it. He wasn’t really sure _exactly_ why Jack did it. Something about how a squadmate had died once before when the typical field bandages and compressors hadn’t been enough. 

He’d managed to dig the supplies out of Jack’s bag and use the contents of the kit to keep him alive just long enough to get him some real medical attention.

The mission had been a success, technically. It didn’t feel like one. Not with the dead silence and missing the weight of Jack’s head on his shoulder as he slept.

Gabriel paced outside the medical ward until the Captain threatened to take him off-duty, forced him to get his own basic scratches looked at and sent him to the barracks. He couldn’t sleep well, and the next morning went back to the medical ward well before breakfast.

Jack lived. Not only that, but he was _of course_ already awake, even if stuck with so many tubes that he would have to spend fifteen minutes unplugging to even get out of the bed.

“Gabriel!” Jack croaked, as if he had any right to be surprised Gabriel came to visit.

He sounded _terrible_ , as if every word pained him. Still, he spoke. 

_It’s a miracle he can even talk the day after a wound like that. It hit the lung bad. Thank fuck for modern medicine._

“Why’d you do it?” He said. “What were you fucking _thinking_?”

Jack didn’t look surprised, but perhaps a bit annoyed. As if he’d expected this.

“He had a solid aim on you. If he’d hit you, you’d have died for sure. If it hit me, it’d probably be at a different angle and I’d have a chance at surviving. Win-win.”

He was just so angry at that excuse that made more sense than he liked, at the situation, at the very fact that his own incompetence had caused this. So relieved that Jack was alright. He was so _emotional_. He didn’t like it, so he left before he said or did something stupid. Like tell him he was an idiot, even though he was.

Or kiss him.

He didn’t see Jack again for six days, until he was released from the medical ward with orders not to see combat for a month more. He managed to avoid Jack for another six hours before he found himself cornered in one of the more hidden areas of the base; a side hallway of one of the back buildings. Usually quite empty. 

_I forgot. I can’t hide from him._

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Jack accused bluntly, arms folded. “Seriously? Are we really playing this game again? Life isn’t a movie, you know.”

There was still a bandage poking out from under his collar. It made him remember the blood on his hands as he tried to get Jack to stop talking, so he reached out unthinking and pulled the collar down to cover it.

Jack’s angry, hurt gaze softened. Just a little.

“Gabriel.”

“You shouldn’t have done it.” He said, ignoring the film jab. The words were hollow. They both knew Gabriel would’ve done the same thing, even if Gabriel wasn’t sure how Jack knew.

“What, you wanted me to just stand there and watch you die? Do you even know me?”

Silence.

“I just couldn’t stand seeing you like that.” Gabriel finally said.

“Coward.” Jack muttered, scowling. He pulled his collar to hide the bandages just a bit more. “Well, we’re both alive and well. Mostly well. Are you through with your mood?”

“You were _bleeding out_ in front of me! Don’t call it a _mood_.”

“I took a bullet for you, Reyes. The least you could do was visit me in medical! I was bored to _death_.”

“I didn’t ask you to do it!” He snapped.

“You didn’t have to.”

Gabriel winced. “Why did you?” “You’re-- you’re-- you’re my friend, yeah? I’d have done it for any squadmate.”

_Not with that expression._

“Jack.”

“What?” Jack asked, defensive.

“I’m sorry.”

“...What?” “I should’ve come to visit you.”

“Oh.” Jack scratched the back of his head, averted his eyes. “Well. I understand. I wouldn’t want to see you in that condition either.”

“Make up your _mind_ , Morrison. Are you angry with me or not?”

Jack cracked a smile. “A little. I didn’t expect you to actually apologize.”

A prickle of embarrassment went down his spine. “Well. I realized I was being a little…”

“Dramatic?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m fairly certain our conversation was ripped right from a script.”

Gabriel couldn’t help the laugh, ever-so-slight. “Maybe.” He said again.

Jack’s face fell from the smile. “I’d do it again.”

“Jack.”

“I’d have died for you, Gabriel. Gladly. You’re going to do some good things someday, you know? You have drive I’ve never seen. Skill. Hell, you’re even dramatic enough to make it big. You’re going to be important. Even if none of that was true, I’d still die for you. You… mean a lot to me. Closest friend I’ve ever made.”

His heart did multiple confused loops in his chest, leaving him lightheaded. He chose to ignore the last two sentences for now. “What about you? You have all of those things, too. Don’t waste your life on me.”

“Wouldn’t be a waste. Anyways, I don’t really. I’m not ambitious like you.” Jack murmured the last two sentences.

Gabriel only realized his hand was on Jack’s face when he saw those blue eyes widen from a bit too close. He jerked away in an instant. “Well-- well, even so. It’d still be a waste if you died. Even if it wouldn’t be, Jack, I don’t want to lose you.”

Jack’s face was red. Very red. “Mutual agreement then. Let’s both not get killed.” He said hurriedly. 

“Agreed.”

“Er, want to head to mess, Gabe? Dinner starts soon.” Jack said, shifting in place. “Er, sorry. Gabriel.”

Another brick in Gabriel’s wall crumbled to dust. There wasn’t much left at that point.

“It’s… fine, Jack. Gabe is fine. For you at least.”

_God, it’s a good thing he’ll never meet my old friends. They’d eat me alive if they knew I let anyone call me some stupid nickname._

Jack’s face lighting up almost made everything else worth it.

“Really?”

“I suppose.”

His heart almost stopped as Jack’s smile grew teasing, his eyes as mischievous as ever. “If I knew that all I’d have to do to get to call you _Gabe_ was nearly die, I’d have gotten myself shot a long time ago.”

“Fuck you.” He said without malice. They went to dinner.

He gave up three weeks later. 

They’d just made it back from a successful mission. It was three in the morning, and the squad had split up for post-mission tasks before heading to bed. Some went to medical, or to shower, or to eat. Some forgoed everything else entirely in favor of sleep.

Jack, of course, was more concerned with the fact that the meteor shower supposedly visible in their area that night was almost over.

Gabriel, of course, was quickly learning that it was impossible for him to say no to those pleading eyes. It was probably something Jack would make fun of for being _cliche_ or dramatic if he said it out loud, but he could get lost in that blue. Almost as if he’d never left the sunny California skies and the glimmer of light off of the afternoon ocean.

_Is he right? That was pretty bad._

_Of course he’s not right._

So despite the bone-deep exhaustion, he followed Jack to the top of the building and sat on one of the metal climate-control units with him.

The night air was warm, with just enough breeze to ruffle his recently-cut hair, and the skies were clear. It seemed _brilliant_ to him. Hundreds of stars lighting up the night sky and the half-moon hanging heavy in the air among them.

Jack, however, seemed vaguely disappointed. “Light pollution should be a crime.”

He hummed in return, too tired to make a halfhearted jab about Indiana and its lack of everything.

They ended up not seeing much. A few shooting stars here and there; enough to delight Gabriel; who had never seen a real shooting star before, but not enough to rouse Jack’s apparently punditic interest. As the horizon began to lighten, Jack stood with resignation.

“Oh well. Thanks for coming out anyways, Gabe.” Jack said. His voice was endearingly sleepy, and his palm was warm as Gabriel took his pointedly unnecessary helping hand up.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen any.” He confessed.

Jack’s eyes widened. “Gabe! You should’ve told me!”

“Well, what could you have done about it?”

“I… ah, I don’t know. Still should’ve said something.” Jack bit his lip. Gabriel very much did not look at or notice it.

“I’m tired.” He said. “Let’s get to bed.”

“Alright.” Jack released his hand with a sudden movement, as if just realizing they were still touching, then made for the door.

‘Sorry. Tired.” Jack explained as they slowly tramped down the staircase, booted feet aching from the long day that had only gotten longer.

“‘S fine.” He mumbled back. The hallways were deserted. It was almost creepy. _I need to show Jack that one horror movie about getting lost in infinite hallways. What was it called? The Maze? It had a terrible name. Good acting though. Good play on color filters, too._

Jack perked up at his side, nearly startling him in the sudden movement. “Oh, Gabe! You know what? We should go to the mountain!”

“What?”

“You know, that mountain west of base. Like, sixty or so miles. I bet the light pollution there is almost nothing! We can hike up, and then I can show you how a _real_ night sky should look. I can point out constellations and everything. There’s actually a smaller meteor shower in a few weeks, if you want to go then! We could even bring some drinks and sand--”

It was then Gabriel gave up.

He knew everything about the base; had mapped it out in his mind the week he’d joined up. He knew the location of every room, exit, and most importantly-- where all the cameras and their blind spots were. He hadn’t _planned_ for this, of course, but it made it simple to near-mindlessly shove the exhaustion-weakened Jack into a dead-end side hallway. To wrap his hand around the fabric of that bloodstained gray military shirt, curl the fingers of his other hand into light hair. To push until Jack was against the wall, and finally, _finally_ press their lips together.

It’d been everything he’d wanted for the last severalmonths-- for the first few seconds, at least. Until the high faded, and he noticed how stiff the warm body under his fingers and pressed against his chest was.

He pulled away to see wide blue eyes staring at him with such disbelief that his heart froze.

_Oh. Fuck._

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Had he been wrong about the signs? Of course he had. As _if_ Jack would be interested in him. He was a terrible person. Not even friend material, let alone… anything more. So what if Jack smiled at him? Saved him sweets? Teased him? Kept his hot-chocolate secret? Took a bullet for him? So what if Jack’s touches lingered and he slept with his head on Gabriel’s shoulder on transport? 

So what if he offered to take Gabriel stargazing in the mountains? Jack was just that sort of person; would offer that to any one of his friends, Gabriel was sure.

And now Gabriel had lost that friendship.

“Jack, I-- I didn’t mean--”

And then a warm hand curled around his neck, pulled him back into the kiss with unexpected force.

Their teeth clacked, but it was the furthest thing from his mind as he raised a hand to Jack’s jaw, tilted it to get a better angle as he allowed himself to rest his other hand on Jack’s head. His hair was soft. He’d felt it before, barely brushing against his neck, but this was so much better. So much more. He could card his hands through it, right misplaced strands and tug.

He’d kissed people before. A lot of people. 

This was different. Not because Jack was terrible at it; because he wasn’t. Not because he was great at it, either, because he was solidly average. Gabriel just… wanted to. _Really_ wanted to. Not because it was a step closer to getting Jack into his bed. Not because it was simply to placate him. Not because he was bored, or felt like it was some sort of tiresome duty. 

It was _Jack_. For some godforsaken _fucking_ reason, he’d fallen for the blonde, blue-eyed goddamn farmboy from Indiana. The best soldier he’d ever met, and the only person he’d ever even bothered to envision at his side over the upcoming years. He wasn’t sure when his plans had changed from his rise to power from _their_ rise to power-- but he was certain that some day, it would be the end of him. You couldn’t afford to be anything but selfish with ambitions like his.

But as teeth scraped across his lip, and the fingers on the back of his neck tightened, and another hand came up to thumb across his stubble-- he found that he didn’t care. The man in front of him was _worth it_. And hell. Maybe he was wrong. Jack had already made him a better soldier, a better future commander-- and he couldn’t imagine settling for anyone less than this very unanticipatedly unique soldier. He was certain he’d never find anyone else like Jack.

_I’m never letting him go._ He decided. By the way Jack was gripping, he was certain the feeling was mutual.

After a few moments of eternity, Jack pulled away. His lips were kissed red and swollen, his expression slightly dazed, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Gabe.” He murmured, his voice a sort of husky that Gabriel had never heard and instantly formulated plans to hear again. “I didn’t realize… I thought I was the only crazy one.”

“You’re kidding.”

Jack laughed, his face dropping into the crook of Gabriel’s shoulder in such a natural way that his chest hurt.

Jack

Gabriel had kissed him. Like, kissed him. In an empty hallway. On base. After stargazing with him. He’d been walking one moment, imagining a night where they sat alone on a mountainside and searched for constellations together, and then the next his back was against the wall and the scar above his lung was smarting and lips were on his and he was frozen.

He didn’t sleep at all that night. He layed in his bunk, too worried to close his eyes, until the dawn leached through the windows and it was time to get back to training with every ounce of exhaustion still soaked through his veins.

He didn’t mind.

He met Gabriel for breakfast. Neither of them mentioned it, but things felt… different. He wasn’t sure why. It could’ve been his imagination. He’d have thought it was a dream; as it seemed far more likely, but he could still see the mark where he’d bitten Gabriel’s lip. Not nice of him, perhaps, but Gabriel _had_ shoved him into a metal wall without warning. Not to mention, Gabriel hadn’t exactly seemed to mind much.

“You seem tired.” Gabriel said shortly. 

They stood, waiting for their run of the course as Madocki and Cook struggled over the climbing wall. Madocki won. Jack was proud of him. He was quickly picking up the little tips Jack had taught him.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night.” He said. He didn’t look Gabriel in the eyes.

“Sorry.” Gabriel said. 

“No complaints here.” He tried.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure what was next. If there was anything next. They were soldiers. Squadmates. It was so _incredibly_ stupid to have done what they’d done, especially with Gabriel’s life revolving around his ambition. Jack didn’t want to be the reason his dreams fell apart.

And yet.

_Gabriel_ had kissed _him_.

It didn’t mean anything. One kiss meant nothing. It didn’t mean that Jack didn’t want more though, of course.

He’d been fine enough keeping his feelings locked away in a box under his conscious, but now-- but _now_ what was he supposed to do? Pretend it hadn’t happened? That would be unfair. Right?

He decided to stop thinking about it. The alternative was having an actual _conversation_ about what they’d done and the future, and that thought was more horrifying than any other.

“We still on for hiking next month?” Gabriel asked. His voice was casual, but his eyes were locked on Jack’s face and searching with intensity that stopped the breath in his lungs.

“Yeah.” He said.

Gabriel smiled.

Gabriel didn’t smile often. It’s not that his emotions weren’t visible, they were simply more… subtle. A puzzle that Jack had adored figuring out these last many months in the ATU. He hadn’t approached Gabriel to begin with for any reason other than his own curiosity at the best soldier he’d ever laid eyes on, but _fuck_ had he changed his tune fast. 

Gabe had been an asshole. Obvious from day one. Jack had been warned not only by the Captain before he’d even stepped foot on base, but by several other people in the first fifteen minutes of meeting them.

Jack, of course, hadn’t thought much of him at first. Some dick with a lone-wolf complex who thought he was better than everyone else. The thing about Gabriel was, well, he was _right_. He was the best out there-- at least until Jack had come along. And Jack had seen, in Gabriel’s first defeat, that Gabriel was just as excited to find a challenge as Jack had been.

But Gabriel had been more than that. He was _perfect_. Out in the field, with Gabriel at his side, Jack hadn’t once felt like his back wasn’t properly watched. Like he had to overcompensate for whoever he was teaming up with. He’d found an equal, and he loved it.

After the first trip to the city, he’d been hooked. Gabriel’s façade had crumbled and he’d chatted and joked about not _quite_ like a normal person, but almost. His obsession with film had been so absolutely endearing, and though their trip to the bar had been embarrassing on Jack’s part, he’d still had more than enough of a good time to ignore it. Not to mention their trip home, when Gabriel had admitted he liked Jack’s company. Had assumed Jack would want to go back again with him.

Oh, and there was the fact that Gabriel was one of the most handsome men he’d ever met. His heart froze every time those liquid-gold eyes met his own. Every time Gabriel couldn’t quite hide a half-smile. Every laugh. Every time he painted the walls with enemy blood and whirled across the battlefield shotgun in hand. 

He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t like the fact that he was the only one Gabriel seemed to get along with, either. It most certainly wasn’t healthy, but he loved having Gabriel all to himself anyways. Not that he would ever admit that.

And now, months and months later, Gabriel had kissed him and seemed to want to continue that-- even if only a little. Even if only for one more session of stargazing.

That was enough for Jack. 

Things should’ve been awkward the next few weeks, but they weren’t. He and Gabriel still did the same things they always did. Trained, ate at the mess hall, fought, and lazed about reading or playing chess during their off-hours. Went to movies and drank at bars in the city. Relaxed on the couch in the rec area, one foot apart as per socially acceptable.

If their arms remained touching during bus rides, or Jack pretended to sleep longer than he really did with his head resting on Gabriel’s shoulder, or they ended hand-to-hand matches a bit later than they perhaps needed to?

Well. That hadn’t changed, either.

Three weeks and eleven days later, they got a night off during the height of the meteor shower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter I am far more excited for and will therefore be less "90% internal monologue of emotionally repressed soldiers". Also I threw some Jack POV in at the end there b/c why not. Forgive my 4:30 am mind for any grammar errors pls.


	4. Where Jack and Gabriel take a 100% platonic trip stargazing in the mountains to promote soldier camaraderie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy that sure did take me hot minute, huh? Sorry about that!   
> <3 Love y'all. Enjoy this several-month-late chapter!

“Hey, Jack. Did you hear? The Captain gave us the night off! Remman said something about a famous band performing at the stadium, so we’re heading off to the city tonight. You’re coming, right?”

Gabriel forced himself not to look up from his datapad. _Cook doesn’t give up, does he?_ Though. What band was he talking about?

Didn’t matter.

“Sorry.” Jack said. Gabriel could hear that he was still busy resetting the chess board. “I have plans.”

“It seems like you _always_ have plans nowadays.” Cook complained. “What, are you and _Reyes_ heading out to the city again?”

“Not tonight. We’re going on a hike in the mountains.”

_Really, Jack? You’re just going to out and say it like that?_

“You’re going on a hike, in the mountains, at night. Did I hear that correctly?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m a fair outdoorsman. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but _why_?”

“Somebody has to show the city boy what real stars look like.”

Cook was silent. Gabriel still didn’t look up, but he could see in his mind’s eye the realization.

“You’re going stargazing. With Reyes. Alone.”

There was a smile in Jack’s voice. “Which is it? Alone, or with Reyes?”

“Fuck you, Morrison. Hey, I was actually a city kid too. Never been stargazing. Can I come?”

“Sure.” Jack said. “Though, you remember that Gabriel is going to be there too, right? I guarantee he’ll be complaining the entire time.”

“I’m right here.” Gabriel muttered.

They ignored him.

“Maybe not.” Cook sighed. “I don’t get why you bother with him.”

“Damn, Cook.” Jack teased. “He’s right there.”

_He’s the worst._ And yet, as Cook walked away and left them be, Gabriel couldn’t help but appreciate how manipulative Jack could be when he tried.

They left to visit a nearby grocer at four, packed a lunch, and by five were on a bus to the mountains. 

“Did you remember to grab the thermos?”

Gabriel hummed, took it from his bag and threw it without looking. He only looked up from his phone when Jack waved a hand in front of the screen.

“What?” He said, irritable.

“Put it away, Gabe. No dossiers tonight.”

“Jack--”

“That’s final!” Jack declared. “I _will_ take your phone away, Reyes.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Then try going back to that dossier.”

He truly, _deeply_ considered doing so. Just to see what Jack would do about it. If they’d been alone on the bus, he might have just done so. As it was, the bus was nearly half-full, and it could wait until they were alone.

_Alone._ The thought of it sent a thrill up his spine. They almost never got time alone, not with their lifestyle. They were either in base; where there was never a nonzero risk of somebody walking in even ignoring the cameras, or out in the city; which was of course the opposite of alone. They _were_ often alone on missions, but they had a job to do at times like that. They were both professionals. 

Not that, well, there had been a _reason_ for them to be alone. As of yet, that late-night kiss had been an isolated incident-- and Gabriel couldn’t tell if it was because of the lack of privacy or not.

That was another thing. Before the kiss, he’d considered Jack something of a heart-on-sleeve sort of guy. Either didn’t have much to hide or was bad at hiding it. Ever since, he’d been at a loss. Jack didn’t talk about himself often, even though everyone on the squad, if asked, would likely say they knew Jack well. 

It was certainly different from Gabriel himself. People didn’t know him well either, but everyone knew that fact. 

Jack was so good at that sort of manipulation that Gabriel caught _himself_ wondering from time to time if it was intentional or not. Still. He didn’t know a thing about Jack’s past relationships; if any, or what he wanted now. Between them. In such a dangerous, illicit manner between two soldiers. He figured Jack was probably wondering the same thing, but again, couldn’t be sure. That smile of Jack’s held a lot more than he’d thought the day they met.

_All I can do now is relax. One day at a time. We’re going stargazing in the mountains. Alone. What happens, happens._

Hmm.

_We’re going stargazing. In the mountains. Alone. The mountains. Aren’t there like… bears in the mountains? Some sort of big cat? Snakes? Wolverines? What even is a wolverine? I have no idea what lives up there._ Jack had said that he was, what, something of an outdoorsman? In _Indiana_. Which was a flat plain of corn or whatever. What did Jack know about mountain creatures? _I brought my pistol. Does that have enough stopping power for a bear?_

They arrived just before seven in the evening. It was summer, so they still had well over an hour of at least partial daylight left. 

“Alright.” Jack said, rooting through his bag. “We don’t know the area well, so we need to be careful. No getting separated. If we see an animal, back away slowly to avoid disturbing it unless I say otherwise. I picked this trail because it's well-traveled and kept. Less chance of getting lost. In the future, we can try out some more obscure trails. As it stands, keep an eye out for cairns and other landmarks. Er, and I should probably mention that I don’t think hikers are _technically_ allowed here at night. If we see somebody, we should duck out of the way. Got your flashlight?”

He lifted his flashlight and waved it in his hand. “Yeah. Hey, Jack?” “What is it?”

“I know I call you a boy scout sometimes, but _damn_ , I was teasing you.”

Jack had already moved away to examine a nearby trail sign. “Oh, really? I thought the Captain had told you or something.”

“Wait, what? You-- you were an actual boy scout?”

Jack turned with a quizzical smile. “Does that surprise you? Yeah. A friend and I went through the online-led version, since we lived in the middle of nowhere. I finished my final project when I was seventeen and was promoted to Eagle scout. I got to skip a whole military rank because of it, too.”

That was news to Gabriel. “You get an automatic rank for like… whittling or whatever?”

Jack rolled his eyes and-- and leaned forward to wrap his fingers around Gabriel’s wrist. He pulled Gabriel the first few steps up the trail, then fell in alongside him. With how narrow the path was, their shoulders were constantly brushing.

_It’d probably be more typical to walk in-line on this path, huh? Unless…_

He cut that line of thought as Jack spoke up again, sounding somewhere between resigned, entertained, and exasperated.

“It’s not just _whittling_ , Gabe,--”

_I’ll never get used to that nickname._ Or how much he loved the sound of it, coming from Jack.

“-- it’s a ridiculous amount of work. Twenty-one fucking merit badges, a community project, teaching kids online about something stupid like camping or environmental sustainability, and… well. You get the picture.”

“All that to skip the first rank?”

“Well, yeah. I suppose the badges themselves were fun to collect anyways. It was all the teaching and the community stuff that was a pain. Probably because it was mostly online, and I’ve never much cared for that.”

_What was I accomplishing during my last few years before the military? Some classes at the local community college._

“What was your project?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember. I think I built and installed a couple pieces of furniture for our community center.”

“That’s all it takes to skip a rank?”

Jack snorted and bumped his shoulder, almost hard enough to make him step off the path. “And the twenty-one or so badges.”

“Right. Like whittling.”

“Fair enough. I did get that badge, though they call it _wood carving_ nowadays. It encompasses a lot more than whittling. I had to talk to some old man from Wisconsin for like three hours about _wrist technique_ and video myself carving some pieces.”

Gabriel was suddenly thankful that he’d never considered the scouts; skipping a rank or not.

“I knew that having a degree would let you surpass the most basic rank, but scouting seems… odd.”

“I guess it just proves that you have the discipline necessary. Not to mention, the survival skills I learned there have been pretty helpful in the military.” Jack said.

“Oh. Is that where you learned to climb like that?”

“No. Oh, actually, you said a degree lets you skip as well. You’ve mentioned having taken a few classes before. Did you skip too?”

Gabriel shrugged uncomfortably. “No. No degree. I took some college courses in high school, but… I don’t know. They felt useless. Too easy. Not worth my time.” He said, realizing just how much of a douchebag he sounded as the last word left his lips.

Jack didn’t seem to think much on it though as he glanced over at Gabriel. “Too easy? Makes sense. You’re _ridiculously_ intelligent. I mean, you memorize how many dossiers and their updates a week?”

“Memorizing shit doesn’t make me smart, Morrison. It lets me pass mediocre college courses with ease.”

“Mm. Tell that to all the terrorists you’ve outsmarted.”

“As if you don’t do the same thing.”

“Yeah, but that’s…” Jack hesitated. “That’s different. I don’t know why. I don’t really think it through. Not like you do. Just because my instinct generally works out doesn’t make me smart. It makes me either experienced or lucky. Both, maybe. It’s why you’re commander material, you know?”

Gabriel didn’t know what to say to that. “You don’t think you are?”

“Nah. I’ve told you before that I’m not really the ambitious type.”

“You don’t make it to S-Squad without being ambitious.”

Jack bumped him again, more playfully. “I mean, if I’m offered a position that seems more appealing, I’ll take it. I just don’t care much for politics. I’m ambitious when it comes to my own ability, but not my career. Understand?”

Gabriel didn’t. Not really. What he did understand was that, however unhealthy it was, Jack’s words made him happy. _If he’s not ambitious, he doesn’t care. Maybe I could convince him to come with me as I move up the ranks?_

He filed the idea away for later. He hadn’t even known Jack a year yet, and anyways, why would Jack agree to file along in his shadow for the rest of their careers?

They walked along, chatting idly as the sun dropped below the mountain and out of sight. As it grew darker and darker, Gabriel began to feel his nerves fray.

It was dark. _Really_ dark. He wasn’t scared of the dark of course; the very idea was laughable, but…

It was dark. The city didn’t get dark, what with all the skyscrapers and lights and cars and everything. The base never got dark. The cities they went to were never dark. A few missions were in darker places; sure, night in the middle of nowhere and basements with cut electricity-- but he was always too focused on the mission to notice or care.

There was nothing here but their flashlights and the sliver of moon ahead more often hidden by trees than not.

_Do bears have night vision?_

“What?” Jack said.

“What?”

“You mumbled something about bears, I think.”

_Did I say that out loud?_

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then who did?” Jack said. He sounded amused. “It’s alright, Gabe. They only have brown bears in these parts.”

Gabriel nearly halted. “Aren’t those the most dangerous kind?”

“That’d be the Grizzly, unless you live on polar ice. Brown bears and Grizzlies are different.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get me wrong, they’ll still kill you if you mess with them. We won’t do that.” Jack said. As he spoke, their hands brushed, and Gabriel thought for a heart-stopping moment that Jack was about to grab his hand.

_Which would be silly. What are we, high-schoolers? What kind of soldier does that?_

“I hope fucking not.” He mumbled. He almost wanted to turn the flashlight off and accustom his eyes to the darkness.

Jack was silent for a while. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the trees and their boots thumping on rocks and dirt. Gabriel took another long drink of water, trying to relax and appreciate the nature. Or whatever you were supposed to do on a hike.

“I thought boy scouts were supposed to be good at nature stuff.” He said eventually. It was an indication of how out-of-place he felt that he was the one who broke the silence first. “You’re practically stomping.”

Gabriel wished it wasn’t dark. He couldn’t see Jack’s responding smile.

“We aren’t hunting, Gabe. It’s best any wildlife knows we’re here far in advance. Gives them time to get away. Sneaking up on any animal is dangerous.”

“I guess.” He said.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

Silence for a good ten minutes.

“I know this isn’t really your thing. Hiking and all that.” Jack said eventually. His voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “Thanks for agreeing to come out.”

“I’d never say no to spending time with you.” He said. And then nearly choked. _Did I just say that aloud, too? Maybe I’m more scared of bears than I thought._

Jack was silent for so long that Gabriel felt like sinking through the dirt and dying under the mountain.

“I, um.” Jack said, then stopped.

“Sorry.” Gabriel said. He didn’t apologize often, but Jack was always different.

“No! No, I. Um. Was just trying to think of something witty to say back.” Jack admitted. “Or anything.”

“Right.”

“Want to… Stop for dinner if we find a suitable place?”

Gabriel hummed an affirmation, still wanting to disappear from the situation.

They found their suitable place fifteen minutes later; a small clearing with a break in the trees that let through the meager moonlight. Gabriel set out the blanket while Jack began to organize their food supply.

“Stargazing means a lot to me.” Jack said out of the blue. “I don’t… I wouldn’t offer to do this with anyone else. It’s just you, Gabe.”

_It’s just you._

As the words went through his head and attempted to formulate some semblance of understanding, he felt a hand wrap around his upper arm and squeeze, just once, before letting go. 

It was nearly saccharine, their trip to the mountains. If Jack hadn’t been absolutely oblivious to modern media and tropes and things, Gabriel would’ve thought he’d planned it to be this way from the start. Instead, they fell into a pattern of skirting around their feelings and whatnot of their own volition.

_Get it together, Gabriel._

“We’ll, um, make it to the top by, ah, ten-thirty or so.” Jack said weakly. 

Gabriel realized he’d left Jack hanging, that time. Well. It was only fair.

“Right.” He said.

About thirty seconds later, they apparently had the same thought, as they collided heads each leaning forward in the darkness.

_Fuck the goddamn mountains and their lack of goddamn streetlamps and goddamn movies that make this shit seem so easy and goddamn--_ Was all he had time to think before warm hands were on his chest, and then he could feel a sharp rock dig through the blanket into his back as he was pushed down. 

He instantly forgot the rock. It was too dark to see Jack’s face, but he didn’t have to see to know exactly what his expression was.

Still. Best not to assume, right? Rather than imagine the mischievous smile, he leaned up to feel it. 

_Why is he always so warm?_ Unlike when they were exhausted in the hallway at base, Gabriel had the frame of mind to actually understand what was happening. 

Jack’s lips were nerve-bitten, but soft, and when he opened his mouth to let Gabriel in, he tasted like summer. He raised his hands to Jack’s hips, held him in place as he deepened the kiss.

Jack shifted above him, pressing him further into the blanket, and nipped back before pulling away.

“Gabe?” Jack said, breathless. His voice was just that _perfect_ husky tone that Gabriel had so recently come to crave.

“Mm?” He gripped Jack’s waist more tightly as he shifted above, maneuvering to-- to curl his fingers just under the lip of Gabriel’s waistband.

_Fuck._

“Do you w--”

And then a noise came from the trail, back from the way they’d come. “Ouch!”

“What is it, dude?”

“I think a branch just hit me in the face!”

“Turn on your flashlight.”

“No way. Ghosts hate flashlights.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, moron.”

Gabriel more felt than heard the sigh from above him. He himself was just glad it sounded like some kids-- for a moment, he’d been worried that some squadmates had followed them.

“Fuckin’ teenagers.” He mumbled into Jack’s ear. “We’re far enough off the trail that they won’t see us. Ignore them.”

The fingers retracted from his waistband, disappointingly enough. “Not a chance. I want us to have the top all to ourselves.” Jack declared.

Gabriel’s heart lurched for reasons he didn’t want to discern. “What then?”

Jack hummed, and after a moment, snickered under his breath. “I have an idea. Stay here. Where’s the flashlight?”

After a fumble in the dark, he managed to hand the flashlight to Jack. There was just enough moonlight to see Jack head back in the direction of the teenagers.

Jack crept forward, and then right before the teenagers caught sight of his shadow-- flicked the flashlight on.

Seven identical screams. Gabriel covered his mouth to keep in the laughter.

“What the hell are you lot doing here?” Jack snapped, authoritative. “Didn’t you see the signs? The mountain trails are closed to the public after dark.”

Gabriel listened with amusement as Jack examined their ID’s, threatened to ticket them, then sent them scurrying back down the mountain with a warning. _His authority voice is…_

Listening to it made something other than his heart jump.

“That was kind of fun.” Jack admitted as he walked back over to their picnic. “Maybe I should’ve been a park ranger, or whatever it’s called.” 

“You’d die of boredom in the first hour.” Gabriel said. He patted the space next to him.

Jack flopped down onto the spot without pause, moved over a not-so-discreet inch so that their sides pressed together. “Probably, yeah. We need to hurry up and eat. I want to get to the top.”

“So soon?” Gabriel asked, lifting a hand to poke Jack’s cheek.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

After a few more minutes of finishing up their dinner, they packed up and went back to the trail. Despite it having been a warm summer day, the nightime temperatures were dropping to something low enough that he regretted not wearing a jacket. In the _summer_.

_I miss California._

Jack worked his way up a short, rocky, near-vertical section with undue expertise, then turned to help Gabriel up. Gabriel accepted the helping hand, because it was Jack, but was stopped at the top of the incline.

“Gabe? Are you shivering?” Jack asked, incredulous.

“No.”

“Yes, you are. It’s _so_ not that cold out. Do you want a jacket?”

“You brought a jacket?”

“Two. Weather can be unpredictable, yeah?” Jack said. He dug around in his bag and produced an unfashionable, yet warm looking jacket. “If we got caught on the mountain in some sort of freak weather occurrence, we could die without the proper gear. This isn’t a _real_ hike, but it’s best to be prepared.”

Gabriel accepted the jacket gratefully. “Boy scout.” He teased.

“Don’t think I won’t take that jacket back.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, but instead of trying, he placed a hand on Gabriel’s lower back and shoved him forward. “We’re losing moonlight, Reyes.”

They continued to chat as they climbed, which despite all of their training, was fairly exhausting. Gabriel had to admit, though. It wasn’t terrible. He actually, well, he loved it. Just he and Jack, climbing a mountain in the dark. They hadn’t even seen a bear. Not to mention, every time Jack touched his arm to guide him over a particularly rocky area --however unnecessary-- he got to relearn just how warm those fingers were. Maybe he was just cold, but some part of him just wanted to--

The treeline broke, and after another minute of walking, they hit the top of the mountain. 

“Damn.” He said. “Hell of a view.”

Jack burst out laughing. It was so dark, the moon half-lit, that the surrounding countryside was nothing but a blank silhouette. 

“Well.” Jack managed through his hand. “Maybe we can come back for _that_ view at a later date. We have a better view anyways, above us.”

Gabriel finally remembered, and tilted his head back to stare up.

_That’s a lot more than I expected._

He’d never seen anything like it in his life. There had to be thousands upon thousands of stars, some of them varying colors, and a large swathe of-- 

“Is that the milky way?” He asked. It didn’t look like the pictures, but more of a dark cloud framed in stars. It was oddly beautiful.

“Yeah! A bit dim, but there’s still some light pollution here for sure. Still the best view I’ve gotten since I left Indiana.” Jack said. He sounded a bit awed himself, which made Gabriel feel better about his own sense of wonder.

They scouted the area for a good place to settle in, and found a decent-sized pavilion on one side of the mountain.

“The higher the better.” Jack said. Gabriel was fairly certain that he winked as well, but it was too dark to tell for certain. And then Jack was off, scrambling to climb atop to the pavilion roof that creaked under his weight.

“I think it’ll break with both of us up there.” Gabriel said dubiously.

Jack jumped, and the sudden loud sound of boots hitting metal nearly gave him a heart attack. “It’s fine! Metal.” he said, then knelt and stuck out a hand. “I’ll help you up.”

“I don’t need help.” Gabriel mumbled, then took the proffered hand anyways just to feel the warmth.

Once at the top, they spread their blanket out onto the gentle slope and settled down. It took a good minute to find a comfortable position, but they managed. The blanket was thick, the metal beneath them was smooth, and the angle was just right.

“We have a few hours before we have to start making our way back down.” Jack said. “If I timed it right, we may even get a few hours of sleep before we have to get training.”

“Nah. I told the Captain that we were going to take a few hours off in the morning. If a mission pops off we’re out of luck and have to haul our asses out of bed, but otherwise we can sleep in some.”

“What? You just… told him? And he agreed?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not like we’re in some generic military, Jack. We’re in a tiny, top-tier, highly specialized unit in the UN. Not to mention we’re the best soldiers there, and it’s not like training with the rest of _them_ does any good anyways.”

“They’re not that bad, Gabe.” Jack lied. “Well, it’s good to know you can slip some stuff by him.”

“Yeah. I think he’s just glad that he doesn’t have to bitch at me about missing team events and things.”

“Only because _I_ bitch at you instead!”

“Exactly.” Gabriel said. He wished he could see Jack’s face more clearly, but there was just enough moonlight to see those eyes roll.

“Whatever, Gabe. What constellations do you know?” Jack asked.

“What? Oh. Er, I think one’s a lion. Right?”

“There’s also two bears.” Jack teased.

“Shut up. Where?”

Jack was silent for a moment, searching the night sky, then pointed up. Gabriel tried to follow to where he was pointing, but damn, there were a _lot_ of stars, and they usually clustered together. All he saw were little bits of light, and when he tried to form the patterns in his head, it never looked quite right.

“I don’t see it.”

Jack hummed, and a moment later moved closer. He set their heads together, took Gabriel’s arm, and manipulated it into pointing in the same direction. He pointed at several stars, tracing a pattern that still made no sense.

“See it now?”

“Nope. Still just looks like stars.” He said, hoping Jack wouldn’t let go of his arm. Jack did, unfortunately, and he let his arm drop back down.

“It’s a lot less obvious than you’d expect. Use your imagination!”

“Hey, I’m more imaginative than you!”

“You got that right.” Jack muttered. 

“Watch it.”

“No. Oh! One moment.” Jack said. Gabriel watched as Jack pulled out his phone, tapped on it for a moment, then held it up to the sky. Displayed on the screen were the stars above, moving in tandem with the changing angles of the phone, with lines drawn between them. They were labelled with different names, and _damn_ , it seemed like every star in the sky was part of one constellation or another.

“What’s that?”

“Some app. Now you can figure out the constellations without having to strain your limited brainpower.”

“Fuck you.” He said absentmindedly. They were so close now that Jack’s head was on his shoulder, holding the phone up so they could both stare through the screen.

“See? There’s Betelgeuse. It used to be a lot brighter when I was a kid, but solar dust or whatever made it dimmer in the mid 2020’s. I think you mentioned that one before? Something about a movie.”

“Mmhmm.” He was too busy examining the sky and the phone, picking apart the patterns to respond with words. He wasn’t too busy, though, to slide his arm under Jack’s back and wrap his fingers around the fabric of Jack’s shirt on the other side. Jack didn’t complain.

“There’s Sirius there. Brightest star in the sky.”

“I thought that was the North Star.”

“Common misconception. The North Star is actually pretty dim. It’s on the tip of the little dipper there. Oh, and the little dipper is part of Ursa Minor as well. The big dipper is part of Ursa Major. It’s also called Polaris, usually. The North Star, that is.”

“Where the hell did you learn all this?”

Jack huffed out a laugh. “Indiana. Small town. Nature stuff was prime entertainment. Plus, I had a friend who was obsessed. What else did you want to see?”

“I don’t know. Show me something cool. You’re the expert, Jackie.”

He said it as if it had slipped out, but it was a carefully calculated maneuver on his part. He understood now why Jack had always called him _Gabe_ , even before Gabriel had allowed it. The thought of having your own name for somebody was… nice. And if Jack didn’t argue, well, that was just one more indication that whatever was between them was certainly more than physical or temporary. Not that he harbored many doubts about that, anymore.

He watched as Jack fell silent, and there was just enough moonlight to see the reddish tint spread across his face. It was _so_ easy, and so endearing.

“I, um, well.” Jack finally managed to say. “There’s Rigel there. Arcturus. Orion is that cluster of stars there, with the three sisters. Eridanus is that huge constellation there. Oh, and that reddish one that doesn’t twinkle is Mars.”

“Wait, you can see planets?”

“Gabe! Seriously? Of course you can! If I had a good camera on me, or even a small telescope, I could show you Jupiter and its largest moons.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We can do it another time.” Jack said. His voice was as warm as his skin, now, and he sounded happier than ever. 

“Why are you always so warm?” He asked without thinking; a far cry from his earlier deliberacy.

Jack laughed under his breath and set the phone down, moving his hand up to press against Gabriel’s stubble. “I’ve told you before. You’re just cold, and I have a good metabolism.”

“So you say.” He complained. Jack’s thumb rubbed against his jawbone, and his face suddenly seemed very close.

“You know, Gabe? What we’re doing right now probably wouldn’t be considered typical soldier camaraderie.”

It was Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “No. It wouldn’t. Is that a problem, Morrison?”

As Jack opened his mouth to respond, Gabriel took the opportunity to shove him to the left and roll, swapping their positions in one, sudden movement. Jack stared up at him, expression hidden from the moonlight by his shadow. He thought he caught a flash of apprehension, but if it’d ever been there, it was gone in an instant.

“Not at all.”

And then Jack’s hands were under his jacket and fumbling for the buttons on his shirt, and he was wrapping his fingers in that soft golden hair and leaning down to press his lips against every inch of available skin, and all he could think was--

_If we get interrupted one more time, I’m going to toss whoever it is off the mountain._

Nobody interrupted them. Jack finished undoing the buttons on Gabriel’s shirt, but when he pulled back to shuck it off, found that Jack wouldn’t let go of the fabric. 

“Fuck.” Jack said, eyeing the visible strip of skin. Then he released Gabriel’s shirt and began to unbutton his own.

Instead of waiting, he let Jack get two buttons before he reached down and pulled it off-- much to Jack’s amused annoyance-- and took three seconds to appreciate how messy it made that usually perfect hair. 

The disheveled look really suited him.

Gabriel liked cliches, but at that moment, he was exceptionally pleased that neither of them pulled the whole _are you sure you want to do this?_ Thing. Not then. Instead he leaned forward to mouth at Jack’s neck, running his hands across rough skin and puckered scars. He went over each one with his hands, lingering just a little too long on the one above his left lung--

_He took the shot for me_

\-- before Jack distracted him with hands buried in his hair and teeth on his jawline, nipping at the delicate skin there. It was almost a jolt when he thought of something.

_Has Jack ever done this before with another guy?_ He hadn’t thought to ask. As _if_ they’d do something as reasonable as communicate beforehand. 

Gabriel gasped lightly at a particularly hard bite, then ran his hands down Jack’s body until he reached the edge of what fabric remained. Well. Jack had made a move on _him_ first, earlier during their dinner.

So. Fuck it.

He hooked his thumb under Jack’s waistband with one hand, and with the other slid back up to tug Jack by the hair away from his neck and into a bruising, enthusiastically-returned kiss. It only occurred to him how painfully hard he was when Jack twisted out of his grip and moved down, thumbed open the button of his jeans and jerked them down with uncharacteristic roughness.

While the darkness did make things easier in some ways, it _was_ a pity that he couldn’t see what he was feeling-- the fingers tracing the outline of his stiff length, and the freezing skin contact as a hand finally dipped into his underwear.

Fuck. It really _was_ cold out. 

And then all thoughts about the cold vanished as his Jack took him in his mouth; the suddenness of it nearly making him gasp. 

Maybe he did gasp?

He fought the urge for several agonizing moments to thread his fingers into the soft hair he could barely make out in the light of the moon, before giving up and doing so-- and filing away for later the aborted half-moan he got in return, as well.

“ _Fuck_ , Jack.” Was all he could bring himself to say. Close enough. Better than _I didn’t expect this_ and _how the fuck are you so good at this when you act so innocent_.

It was too soon when that hot mouth pulled away, or perhaps, good it happened when it did.

“Check the bottom pocket of my bag.” Jack half-mumbled from below.

_He didn’t._

But when Gabriel obeyed and riffled through the bottom pocket of Jack’s military pack, he indeed found a small bottle of lube. 

“Boy Scout.”

“I’m going to leave you at the top of this mountain.”

With previous partners, there had never been much of a question as to who would fuck who-- and he’d never before cared about ruining relationships. Whatever was between the two of them, however, he didn’t want to fuck up. He bit down a sense of fumbling, awkward, half-shyness he’d never felt before meeting Jack and asked,

“So, do you want…?”

“You to fuck me? Yes.” And then the façade of false confidence cracked. “Unless, you’d rather me…?”

Instead of responding --embarrassed enough as he was-- Gabriel popped the cap of the bottle.

It was different, when you actually cared about the person beneath you. When you paid attention to them. Jack’s teeth clenched against all noise, that turned to muffled wrist-bitten half-whimpers of pleasure, until surrendering to open moans that filled the empty mountaintop. Fingertips bit into his back and shoulders hard enough to hurt, but he was far from upset at the feeling-- was in fact the opposite.

Above all, he was fairly certain he would never forget the first time Jack moaned his name as he came. 

The first time. Because he was going to make damn well sure it wasn’t the last.

**Jack**

It was nearly three in the morning by the time they decided to head off back down the mountain. His back was still sore from the metal roof-- as well as sore in other places. He didn’t regret a thing of course, but he could already envision how miserable the next training course would be.

_Better off than Gabe, though._

“Sorry again about your back.” He said as they picked their way across a rocky portion of the path.

“I told you, I don’t care. I don’t even think it’ll be noticeable.”

“Still.”

Gabriel sighed. “No, not _still_. You’d know if I gave a fuck.”

Jack cracked a smile and turned to make a show over helping Gabriel over a particularly unstable boulder. “You sure swear a lot, you know.”

“Fuck you, boy scout.”

But there was a hint of a smile in Gabriel’s words, and Jack melted all the same. It was unbelievable how blind everyone seemed to be to everything but that harsh veneer-- even Gabriel himself, sometimes.

“Again?” He teased.

There was a slight choking sound as Gabriel stumbled over his own feet. 

“I can’t believe anyone buys that innocent front you put on.” 

Jack again made a show of helping steady Gabriel; just to tease him further. He pretended not to notice the lingering touches Gabriel left on his arm.

“It’s easy.” He said. “People come to that conclusion just by looking at me. All I have to do is not shatter the illusion _they_ invent.”

“You should go into espionage.” Gabriel commented, drawing his coat further in against the chill.

Jack bit his cheek, only relenting at the taste of blood. “I prefer using my skills over my face.”

“Espionage is more skill than appearance.”

“Skills I don’t have.”

Gabriel hummed the way that meant he disagreed, but didn’t think it worth the time to pursue. “Either way, you’re a great benefit to any squad.” 

_Second only to you._

“Seconded only by you.” He joked. 

Gabriel’s laugh was soft and gruff, and Jack loved every second of it. He’d never been much for humor, until he’d come across a reason to be-- to hear that laugh every day. It was easier to accomplish when they were alone, but he was able to achieve the feat with the rest of the squad around on occasion.

This time, the bus was devoid of human life. As they sat down, their surroundings bright enough to see properly for the first time that night, he found himself wondering how they’d gotten to that moment. There they were, alone together, side-by-side, on a bus after a stargazing trip in the mountains. 

It was a far cry from their first trip; with the squad to a nearby bar. From when he’d had the audacity to attempt to sit next to Gabriel and been bitched out for it. 

“The hell are you smiling at?”

“Just thinking.” Jack said. 

“‘Least it’s good, I guess.” Gabriel said. He then hesitated-- uncommon for him. “Jackie.”

“Yeah?”

Gabriel waited a few more moments, shifting uncomfortably. “Thanks. For the mountain trip.”

Jack’s heart lurched. “Of-- of course. It was wonderful. Just say the word and we can do it again.” He said, knowing that he wasn’t just talking about the mountain trip. Not just about the sex.

“Yeah?” Gabriel’s voice was halfway disbelieving, and he too wasn’t just talking about the trip. “Maybe I will.”

The sun began to make its appearance just as they stepped into the barracks. Their squadmates made a few pointed jokes about the two of them in the days after, but Jack managed to charm them away from the truth of the matter-- and Gabriel simply did his part by glowering in the background.

Missions made Jack nervous, sometimes, when he and Reyes were sent off alone. Not because he didn’t trust Reyes to watch his back, of course, but because every time they locked eyes, he was reminded of one fact. If he were ever forced to choose between every other squad member and Reyes-- He’d pick Gabriel every time. A ridiculous thought. A situation that was so fantastically unlikely to ever occur. 

An unhealthy thought, at that.

But now that he had managed to stumble across --and forge some sort of relationship with-- somebody like Gabriel Reyes? Well, he was pretty well sure there was nobody else like him out there. He wasn’t about to give that up. 

And from the brief moments of time they managed to catch alone, he was fairly certain that Gabriel was thinking the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH it took so long because I'm awful at writing detailed smut. I eventually gave up after several attempts and cut the worst (read:most) of it to save you from suffering and just finally published it. Perhaps in the future I'll update it and add it in once I write something I can bring myself to put before your collective eyes, lol. 2 More chapters after this, but the last one will be fairly short and more of a lead-in to the next part. 
> 
> Cheers.


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